


The Dueler's Creed

by Bright_Boisterous_Bananas



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Banter, Briefly described abuse (not from Zuko), Duelling, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Figuring Things Out, Fluff, Fun, Harry Potter AU, Healing, Hogwarts, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, Kissing, Love Confessions, Magic, Mutual Pining, Passionate kisses, Pining, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Rivalry, Romance, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zutara, duels, extra light smut because these peeps are under age, goodness, healthy love, kids being ridiculous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas/pseuds/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas
Summary: Hogwarts AU.Hating each other and loving The Dueling Club: This is bread and butter of Katara and Zuko's existence at Hogwarts.This hate-hate relationship was born from practical jokes and savage-ass-whooping duels.Pro-dueling, that's all Zuko cares about, if only his Father would be proud of him for it.Katara is on the track to become a Potions Master, but her family is poor and can barely afford her school robes.A prophecy and some very awkward circumstances force these two hate-birds to work together and defeat an unforeseen enemy.They are sworn enemies and falling in love is deplorable and stupid and foolish and...They're so wrong.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 100
Kudos: 84





	1. A Mysterious Donor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This here is a Zutara Hogwarts AU multi-cap! I am so excited!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Get ready for the sassy-dueling-bantering-enemies-to-lovers-adventures!
> 
> Updates are weekly!
> 
> Warnings:  
> -actual footage of 16 year old me denying my feelings, lol.  
> -Rating and tags may change  
> -There is a small amount of verbally abusive behavior in this chapter. The story begins with Jet as Katara's boyfriend. (I wrote him as one of the bad guys in this fic) And if you need to skip, it starts with: "“Hold on.” Katara’s tone changes. “I need that.”  
> and ends with "the couple’s footsteps trail away into the distance."  
> -Just want to note that I don't actually hate Jet, I just needed a villain and somehow it works in my brain.
> 
> I promise that any abuse I write will be short and on the lighter side so the story stays focused on the fun adventure romance of zutara! <3 <3

“Welcome to the first match of the season! You know the rules!” Toph’s voice rings out with excitement, filling the great hall. Her booming vocals draw a hush over the audience.

Katara narrows her eyes, as she bows to her opponent. Across the platform, Zuko’s eyes lock with hers as he mirrors her. He is her dueling arch-nemesis, and Quidditch arch-nemesis, and I’m-the-best-at-every-subject-in-school arch-nemesis.

“Wands only, no contact.” Toph continues from her perch, standing on top of a chair.

Katara tunes out the opening preamble, she knows it by heart. She pulls her focus to Zuko, scanning for weaknesses.

The rivalry started in her first year when he gave her a candy apple, but it was an onion. He has plagued her entire existence at Hogwarts for as long as she can remember. It’s a hate-hate relationship. Born from pranks and practical jokes, and cackling with laughter at the other’s dismay. He’s an entitled little prick, who always gets whatever he wants from his Dad. 

“No unforgivable curses, no help from the audience…” Toph rattles on.

Zuko removes his Slytherin robes and his shirt, tossing them at the fawning audience; they shriek with delight. 

He’s been doing that. For every duel. It’s annoying and distracting. 

He looks good, but it’s a stupid tactic, even if he does look like a God carved from marble-- _get it together Katara._

“No transfiguration spells, no memory erasure spells...” Toph is almost at the end of her spiel.

Taking a deep breath, Zuko grounds himself, feeling the platform beneath his feet. He was born to do this; _he_ started the dueling club, after all. Katara may have bested him in last year’s final, but _not this time._

She may be an incredible dueler, and a prodigy at potions, and quidditch, but those blue eyes are full of mischief. In his first year, she challenged him to bounce marshmallows off his head into a cauldron. Well, one of those marshmallows was an egg. There’s been a continuous war between them ever since.

He purposefully shows no emotion in his face as he takes his stance; He never understands why the audience goes wild for that. 

Katara pulls off her Gryffindor robes with a flourish, revealing her blue dress, with slits up her thighs. She wears it for every match. 

Why does she have to wear that every time? Zuko’s brain complains. It’s annoying that she’s so beaut-- _what the hell is wrong with you?_ Her dress is a diversion, he curses himself for staring. 

“...and no summoning objects of any kind. If you get knocked down for more than five seconds, _you lose the round!”_ Toph is in the home stretch. “Best of three rounds! On your mark…” Zuko and Katara tense, the silence is deafening, “...get set, GO!”

There’s a flash of light as Zuko strikes with _stupefy._ Katara easily blocks it, she was expecting him to go for the obvious kill. In the same movement it takes to block the spell, she slices a whip of water that he’s not expecting, he falls, but he bounces back up again, nostrils flaring.

God, that was satisfying, she grins.

“That’s my sister!” Sokka whoops from the audience.

With a grunt, Zuko blasts fire from his wand. 

Dueling with the elements: Katara and Zuko are famous for this. That’s probably why the entire school shows up for their matches. It adds an element of awe and showmanship that traditional buffeting-and-blocking spells can’t provide.

Dueling is the perfect way to practice wordless magic, that’s probably why the headmaster and the professors allow the dueling club to exist in the first place.

Zuko’s fire creates a dome around Katara, she blasts it with water, creating a steam bomb. The audience goes wild. While the mist is settling he hits her with a rapid fire of _stupefy,_ she isn’t ready, and she flies from the platform and lands on cold hard stone. Pain racks her form for a moment, she doesn’t get up.

5,4,3,2,1.

The crowd erupts. Zuko wins.

“Ugh!” Katara grunts, pulling herself up.

As round two begins, fresh anger rips through her, keeping her hungry for victory. It’s an elegant dance; fire and water colliding as droplets and sparks spatter the crowd. Zuko manages to disarm her, but she’s been saving something for the right moment: wand-less magic. It’s an art form in itself.

At just the right moment, while Zuko is blasting fire from his wand, Katara is flying through the air dodging the blasts, her hand flies up, it’s brilliant, he isn’t expecting it when he gets his with a blast of wind _._

He flies off the platform and smacks onto the floor.

So satisfying.

The noise from the audience is deafening. Katara one, Zuko one.

“That’s my girlfriend!” Jet proudly calls from the crowd, he’s just arriving. He always does that; turning up late for every one of Katara’s matches. 

One round to go.

Zuko’s eyes are cold and hard, with his chest heaving. The scar over his left eye glistens with sweat. He needs to win, he has to win. If he does well this season then maybe his father will let him join a pro-dueling team. Maybe then his father would see that _this_ is his calling. A boring desk job in the ministry sounds like Hell to Zuko.

As round three begins, Zuko is practically seeing Red. Anger: one of his greatest character defects. He surprises Katara by taking her burst of wind and using it to levitate himself, while she’s reorienting he flares several bursts of flame at her, she dodges each one and at the last second she astounds him by ricocheting a water blast off the stone wall. 

He crashes down to earth, pain shoots up his spine momentarily, and he’s down for more than five seconds.

Katara takes the match. The crowd is wild. 

* * *

Everyone has cleared from the Hall. Zuko is still brooding, but it’s only the first match of the season, he reminds himself. In the corner, he returns his shirt to his torso, buttoning up the front. 

“Ahem.”

He turns to see Katara, hand on her hip and her eyebrows raised. 

“Pay up, tough guy.” Her lips twitch slightly betraying her for a grin.

Zuko grunts in indignation, but he’s a man of his word. He digs in his pocket and delivers a small sack of ten galleons to her open palm. “Good fight today.” Defeat in his tone.

They always bet money before any match, it’s tradition and Katara isn’t afraid to risk a lot, her family needs the money.

Katara bounces, jingling the sack and clutching it to her chest. “Thank you!” She squeals.

Zuko rolls his eyes, and why does her sound do something to his body chemistry?

She swivels and bounds out of the hall. Ripping open the pouch she clutches the gold coins; sweet victory. There’s a note.

_Put this together in case you won._

_Congrats I guess. You still annoy me though. Stay on your toes, water-girl._

_-Your Worthy Opponent._

Always so full of himself. Katara snorts and pockets the note, Jet is waiting for her in the hallway. He leans against the wall, chewing on a toothpick while he rolls up the sleeves of his Hufflepuff robes.

“Jet! Look! My winnings!” She holds up her pouch with a gleeful grin.

“Thanks sweetie, I’ll take that.” Jet snatches the pouch and shoves it in the pocket of his robe.

“Hold on.” Katara’s tone changes. “I need that.” 

She reaches for his pocket but his hand stops her wrist, he’s not gentle. “We can discuss it later.” Jet’s voice drops to a hiss. 

She gasps at the sudden movement, unsure of how to respond. “Jet, I--I need that to buy new robes, and--” She’s trying again to retrieve her winnings.

Jet roughly pushes her off. “I said. Later.” His voice is low now and a bit threatening.

Inside the hall, Zuko freezes as he pulls on his robes. 

“Jet! Please!” Katara’s voice is frantic. “With that money, Sokka and I will have enough to pay for his internship, and I can’t keep wearing his hand-me-down robes!”

There’s a scuffle and Jet’s voice sneers “Enough! Ungrateful moodblood.”

A sob echoes in the hallway, and then the couple’s footsteps trail away into the distance.

Zuko is still frozen, blood pounding.

* * *

The light from the great windows hurts Katara’s brain. She didn’t sleep well. 

Crying all night because of her arguments with Jet has become commonplace. He used her winnings to pay off one of his own debts. He took the money from her by force and then he was soft and caring afterwards, it confused her. 

She sighs heavily, weighing her options. This was not how she thought the start of her sixth year would go.

Working odd jobs around the school has helped her make some money in the past, she can always help Professor Bumi in the green houses again.

She weakly stabs at her bacon and eggs. The sound of the morning chatter is a little too much for her today.

“You’ll never guess the headline this morning!” Toph’s voice breaks through her reverie.

“What?” Katara is only half interested.

“There was a break in at the Ministry last night, in the Hall of Prophecy!” Her voice rife with excitement and it’s too sharp for Katara’s headache.

Since Toph is blind, Haru, a friendly Hufflepuff, reads her the big stories from the Daily Prophet each morning and she can’t help but chatter about it during breakfast when her friends show up.

Katara is starting to feel guilty for not being interested, when she is saved by someone yelling her name, as they bound into the hall.

“Katara!” Sokka flails as he runs, pony tail flying. “You’re never gonna believe this!”

His face is contorted with joy and he’s clearly bursting to tell her something. He stands there, mouth hanging open, waiting for her response.

“What is it, Sokka?” She asks flatly.

“I just got an owl from Romania! My internship has been paid for, in Full!” His arms fly up in victory!

“What!?” Katara jumps up! “That’s wonderful! I can’t believe it!” She throws her arms around him and he spins her three times until they’re laughing.

“But--how--who--?” She pulls back.

“They said it was an anonymous donor.” Sokka shrugs. “You’re looking at the new ‘Dragon-trainer-in-training!’” He purses his lips and does a ridiculous victory dance.

She bursts out laughing and squeezes him one more time. 

“I gotta go tell Professor Piandao!” Sokka peels her off playfully and sprints from the hall.

Katara returns to her breakfast, her appetite suddenly reappearing. She silently thanks the Universe and digs into her eggs.

Who was the donor? She’s thoughtfully pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice when a whooshing sound fills the hall; mail is arriving. Parcels and letters litter the air like snow. Soft hoots and screeches echo.

THWAP.

Katara jumps, as a gasp drags from her lungs. A rather large package knocks over her goblet splashing Toph.

“Hey! Watch it!” She complains.

“Sorry.” Katara murmurs as she assesses the parcel, it’s addressed to her.

Hakoda never sends them anything so large, they can’t afford it, and she hasn’t ordered anything recently. 

It’s then she notices the logo stamped on the brown paper. _Madame Malkin’s Robes for All occasions._

What the? There’s a note. With a shaky hand, she opens the parchment.

_Katara,_

_Thought you might need these for winter._

_-YWO_

Strange initials. She doesn’t know anyone with those. Her curiosity is piqued. She gently unties the string and the paper falls away.

“Your breathing just changed.” Toph is at her shoulder, “What’s in there?”

“It’s…” But Katara’s words fail her. She trails the pads of her fingers over the lion emblem. The fabric is soft and plush. “...Beautiful.”

Toph impatiently reaches across, feeling the cloth, she gasps, “ _Fur lined robes! Lucky!”_

Pulling it up and away from the paper Katara stands, holding it up to her shoulders; it’s the perfect size. 

She has never owned anything so fine. She feels the inside with her hand; impossibly soft fur lines the interior, and it’s dyed a deep red, per usual, to indicate the Gryffindor house.

Some of the nearby students ooh and ahh. She flushes a deep crimson, almost matching the color of the fur. Quickly, she returns to her seat hugging the robes close to her chest.

Whoever YWO is, if she ever meets them, she will thank them profusely. But for now she is content to be blissfully unaware.

She does a quick scan of the hall, out of curiosity, no one looks suspicious.

At the Hufflepuff table, Ty Lee is charming her pumpkin juice to dance a jig. At the head table, Professor Bumi is discussing air filtration spells for the greenhouses with Headmaster Pakku. 

Sighing contently, she hugs her present and decides to find Sokka. Springing up, she skips from the hall.

From the Slytherin table, Zuko’s eyes track her movement and after she exists he smiles into his pumpkin juice.


	2. A Surprising Symptom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stress is piling up and something Zuko does sends Katara over the edge.
> 
> The fuming pair end up in the hospital wing with some surprising symptoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! <3 <3
> 
> After a short hiatus for the holidays, this story is back and ready to roll!
> 
> Some notes:  
> -lots of cursing, these peeps have feelings and they need to get them out. LOL  
> -Some of the characters listed in my tags have not shown up yet, this is intentional, we will meet the whole crew eventually. <3  
> -There is a little bit of verbal abuse from Jet in this chapter, I'm keeping it short and to the point so you get the gist, but I promise I'm going to keep the story focused on the fun enemies to lovers quality of zutara and not get bogged down in the darker subplots.
> 
> If you need to skip the part with Jet, it starts with "Sure" and ends with "'This is different.' His tone shifts dangerously, to something more threatening."
> 
> A term that might be useful--> canid: It means any mammal of the dog family.

“What?” Sokka’s mouth falls open in disbelief. “Read it again.”

A strange feeling is settling in Katara’s stomach. Her eyes blur and refocus on the newspaper. She toons out the hum of the hall bustling with the start of a new day.

_“On September 29th, Pao’s Apothecary in Diagon Alley was robbed. Pao is reported missing and the charred remains of his shop reveal a desperate struggle.”_

Silence falls at the table, even Toph’s obnoxious chewing comes to a halt. 

Katara always loved visiting Paos apothecary. That’s where she would get ingredients for her potions. Pao was a genius at potions. He was a kind old man with a big heart. 

A knot of tightly wound anxiety suddenly grows wider in her chest. 

“Wow.” Sokka continues in a grave tone. “Now I know what Dad was talking about when he said ‘stay alert’ in his letter yesterday.”

“Sounds like your Dad will have good material to write about for the next few weeks.” Toph adds cheerily.

“Not helping Toph.” Katara snapped. She doesn’t need reminding that she is poor; She gets plenty of that from Jet.

“Just sayin’.” Toph raises her hands in surrender.

Hakoda has been a reporter for the Prophet for as long as his kids can remember. He loves his job but it pays almost nothing. 

* * *

“Katara.” Zuko’s voice calls from behind her as she’s exiting the great hall.

He jogs to catch up, halting in front of her. There is a suspicious lack of mischief in his eyes. She tracks his gaze as it flicks up and down quickly. Her breath hitches, that’s weird.

“Those--uh...” He’s stuttering--that’s unusual--as he gestures to her new robes. “Look...prett-uh-nice.” Although he visibly winces at his garbled words, he looks far too happy about a set of simple robes.

Katara eyes him, suspecting a prank or a snide remark. “Thank you?” She replies incredulously.

“Are you warm enough in them?” He asks with what appears to be genuine interest.

“Yes?” Her eyebrows knit together. In fact, she is perfectly warm and approaching too warm. “I got them last week, they’re perfect for cool mornings like these.” She smiles at the memory of the anonymous note and then shakes herself, she has to stay sharp around Zuko. She never knows when he is planning something devious.

“Excellent.” He beams suddenly. 

It’s annoyingly brilliant. Rude.

She notices that his robes are rolled up to his forearms and his hair falls pleasingly around his scar.

_The hell is wrong with you Katara?_

Her throat makes a strange sound of its own accord. She’s internally flogging herself. “I uh--I should--” She jabs her thumb in the direction of her first class.

“Yeah me too.” He nods still smiling.

Oh right, they have all the same classes together. Zuko needs to stop smiling, it’s making Katara’s stomach tug in a weird way and send fluttering things through her torso. 

She debates punching him.

* * *

The hall is nearly empty after lunch, Zuko definitely ate too much beef casserole. He sighs, rising from the table and meandering to the door. 

Katara looked well in her new fur-lined robes this morning; his mind has been playing the track on repeat all day, through potions class, through care of magical creatures-- _Shut up!_ His brain has been so unruly these days. It notices when Katara smiles, and it wonders why she seldom affords herself the simple pleasure now; her once lively countenance is visibly weighed down, it’s a marked change in her since last term.

Clearly he didn’t get enough sleep last night, He chocks it up to the exhaustion of the start of a grueling sixth year. He needs to keep his eyes sharp, Katara is a trickster and he absolutely _loathes_ her, he reminds himself. God, if only _he_ could learn to do wand-less magic like she could. He’s been brooding since he lost their first match last week. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been practicing, to no avail.

As he exits the hall, rounding the corner, something wet slams into his face. 

It blinds him and he staggers in surprise. Whipped cream temporarily suffocates him and then gravity slowly peels it down his face. Familiar laughter cackles down the hallway. Nearby students jeer and point as they pass.

Katara got him good with pie in the face. 

He groans in frustration as he wipes the sweet slop from his skin, using his robes.

Suddenly someone catches his eye and his expression changes. The Minister of Magic is walking swiftly to the entryway. 

“Dad!” Zuko calls, running after him. “Wait up! I didn’t know you were here!” Whipped cream dribbles from his chin and lands in little plops on the stone floor.

Katara watches the scene, hiding behind a suit of armor.

“Not now, Zuko--Look at you!” Ozai snaps at his son as he pauses in the great doorway. His dark robes swirl about his ankles and his long black hair is darker than night itself. “You’re a disgrace!”

“You’re leaving?” Zuko’s voice suddenly sounds small, it’s unlike him. “But--I--we could have tea! Or something?” He’s frantically wiping his face on his sleeve.

“No.” The answer is cold and unwavering.

Zuko’s face glints with sadness but he is persistent. “Will you come to the final dueling match this year? I’ve been practicing, I’m good enough to go pro--I think.”

Ozai sighs with a great eye roll, rubbing his temples. The action makes Katara’s heart tug. She’s never seen Zuko interact with his father.

“Zuko, why can’t you be like Azula, she wants to join the ministry one day.”

“But--I--Dad, This is my passion, and I--”

“It’s foolish!” Ozai bellows loud enough so that passing students tremble and pick up their pace.

Zuko’s posture falls and with it a terrible silence, strong enough to cut the sinews of a heart. He feels small and defeated.

“I’m heading back to the ministry.” Ozai continues fiercely. “Tell Azula I will see her for tea on Wednesday.” And with that he barrels out into the courtyard, robes billowing in the wind.

“Can I come?” Zuko calls.

“No!” Ozai roars over his shoulder.

His father disappears in the distance. Swallowing hard, Zuko bites down something that’s trying to climb up his throat. It hurts and his eyes mist. He refuses to show any emotion or let himself feel.

Pressing a hand to her chest, Katara steadies herself, gripping the suit of armor. Zuko’s hands hang lifeless and loose and it somehow draws a coil of something up her chest. 

He turns, as he does so, he sees long brown hair fly out of sight, around a corner.

Anger surges in his gut. _She’ll pay for this._ Being made to look like a fool in front of his father is one thing Zuko cannot stand.

* * *

“Hey I need you to do something for me.” Jet asks, his hand resting on Katara’s knee.

Sometimes in the afternoon the pair has a few minutes to sit alone together in a window nook, tucked in a corner of the castle.

Katara likes to use his Hufflepuff robes as a blanket and she rests her legs in his lap.

“Sure.” She doesn’t look up from her potions book, that she is presently absorbed in.

Jet lowers his voice to a whisper, “I need you to steal some powered dragon claw.”

Fear and guilt collide in her gut. She admires her potions teacher, Professor Iroh, so much and every time Jet asks her to steal she hates herself for it after.

“Why?” She wonders aloud trying to keep and even tone, and failing.

“It’s none of your business.” He snaps.

“But you said you wouldn’t ask me again.” She recalls, her voice wavers.

“This is different.” His tone shifts dangerously, to something more threatening.

* * *

Katara tears down the hallway, late for potions--this is becoming routine--her eyes red rimmed and stinging.

 _“If you don’t do this for me, then you don’t_ _love me.”_ Jet’s words sear in her brain.

When did he start using that line with her? She can’t remember, even though they’ve only been dating since the end of last term. 

He’s a seventh year, like Sokka. At the final quidditch match last year, Jet took a bludger to the arm and it was her healing potion that saved him. The rest is history.

This term is only one month in, and her stress is threatening to eat her alive. Her family is tight on money, she’s overloaded with homework and now Jet is making demands.

He assures her that what he’s doing is good for both of them, even though he won’t tell her what the ingredients are for.

Katara’s mind is so cluttered, she’s practically seeing red. She isn’t paying attention to where she is going or that there is a shift in the color of the stone floor up ahead.

SHLURP.

Her feet sink into what feels like mud. But it isn’t mud, it’s the floor and it’s swallowing her legs, inch by inch. 

“UGH!” She cries. “Help! Somebody help!”

The oozing substance is congealing around her knees, solidifying, trapping her. Could this day get any worse?

“Don’t worry!” Zuko pops out from behind a suit of armor, with a gleeful glint in his eyes. “I’ll tell uncle you’ll be late for class.”

Disbelief sucks the air from her lungs and then suddenly anger swells up her frame, Katara is _not_ in the mood for pranks today.

“ _You!”_ She hisses. 

“Catch’ya later.” He winks and spins on his heel.

With a cry of unbridled frustration she whips out her wand. “VENTUS MAXIMA!” 

A rushing wind sends Zuko flying. He hits the wall and slides down, landing roughly. A great Shattering echoes through the hallway as a string of thirty windows splinter and fall in a swirling hurricane.

Zuko whips to his feet, with venom in his eyes. He hasn’t exactly had the best day either and his little exchange with his father was the straw on the camel’s back. “REDUCTO MAXIMA!” He roars.

Katara blocks it easily but it’s too powerful to snuff out completely. The floor rumbles and stones split beneath her feet. Katara’s stone prison is cracked and she falls back feeling the floor bruise her tail bone, but she bites down the pain and pulls her feet free.

 _So this is how he wants to play? Okay then._ They aren’t in a sanctioned duel, so all rules are off table.

Before the rumbling subsides, she jumps to her feet. She flourishes her wand expertly. “VERTO CANIS!” 

Red sparks ignite from her wand and a blinding light flashes for a moment, it roars, permeating the hallway and it temporarily blinds her.

Her ears are ringing when her sight returns. She staggers clutching her skull. Her vision doubles and delays. She glances over at Zuko, his hands are covering his ears and he’s kneeling, screaming something.

“Huh?” She slurs her words, stumbling towards him, straining to hear.

“Your wand!’ He shouts, eyes wild.

Her eyes slowly fall to her hand. Warped and splintered, the core of her wand is exposed. It’s smoking and sparking; the entire shaft is cracked in half.

She reels at the damage, it must have broken in the fall. She knows her family does not have enough money to replace it.

Her ears are still ringing but a new sound is piercing her consciousness. Distantly, students and professors are shouting at the damage to the hallway, footsteps echo as they draw closer.

Katara can feel Zuko’s eyes on her like a drill. She whips around. he’s shaking, eyes wide with fear. His long finger rises slowly, pointing to her ears, he’s unsteady when he stands.

With a trembling hand she brushes her fingers along the shell of her ear. She gasps as her hand brushes fur. Panic spreads through her limbs. Her eyes go wide and her heart slams in her throat. She looks up at Zuko and chokes, she points in a similar way as he had done, fingers trembling.

Dark furry ears that match his hair color are sprouting from his head.

* * *

“Your spell must have backfired and somehow affected both of you.” Madame Yin wonders as she waves her wand over Zuko’s pointy ears, assessing the damage.

 _Good._ Katara huffs to herself. Serves him right for jumping her with that prank. She’s still fuming that her wand broke in the process too.

Zuko takes the opportunity to stick his tongue out at Katara.

The pair are sporting fuzzy ears and glaring at each other with an unfettered dislike. They sit on the sides of parallel beds facing each other.

“Now now, you two.” Madame Yin catches the exchange and smiles in a knowing way but not a judgmental way. Her hair is pulled back in a silver bun and her green robes flow as she pivots to assess Katara. Yin is the resident doctor who runs the hospital wing. She’s known Katara and Zuko since their first year and has dealt with the aftermath of many a tussle.

“It was a very powerful canid transfiguration spell, the effects will take some time to wear off.” Yin continues gently, as she takes Katara’s pulse. “You may experience some...changes in your bodies; heightened senses for example.”

As Madame Yin is speaking, it’s then Katara realizes she can smell every molecule in the room. She sniffs rapidly; she can smell the rubber of her shoes, the musty stone floor, a spider web in the corner, the exact detergent used to wash Madame Yin’s robes, and Zuko. 

_Zuko._

Katara’s eyes bulge, a powerful scent is emanating from him.

Yin turns and walks to a nearby cabinet. “Oh, and you will both definitely experience an increase in production of hormones and body oils.” She adds as she rummages through some colorful vials, mumbling labels to herself. 

Alarms are sounding through Katara’s body. She meets Zuko’s eyes, they are wider than hers if that’s possible. She tentatively sniffs his scent again. From five feet away, a mighty burst of aroma hits her in the nostrils, it practically burns; Cinnamon, walnuts, and something deeper, it’s sweet and hot.

 _Good God._ It’s like a magnet, but intoxicating, and it sings.

Her body chemistry is changing violently, parts of her are waking up. _Shit shit shit._ She shivers and turns away, trying to play it cool, trying to pretend his musk isn’t flaying her alive. She keeps Zuko in her periphery.

He inhales a few shallow breaths through his nose, testing the air. His neck turns scarlet; he makes a stifled sound and looks away, mouthing _Fuck_ to the wall. Closing his eyes, he grips the bed to steady himself.

They are saved by Madame Yin exclaiming “Ah here we are!” She hurries over with two vials of blue liquid. She hands one a piece to the pair who are dutifully not looking at each other. “This will return your ears back to normal, it may take a few hours.”

Katara sighs in relief and pops the cork out of her bottle, she gulps the bitter liquid at an alarming rate, not caring that it’s spilling down her robes. Zuko mirrors her, practically gargling with the medicine.

“But I must inform you that the other effects will continue for another one to two weeks.” Yin adds matter-of-factly, folding her hands in front of her; ever the professional.

There is a chorus of sputtering and choking as they take in her words. Two weeks of _this._ Two weeks of Zuko smelling like something Katara wants to-- _God no, shit no_. 

This is going to kill her, she believes that firmly while numbly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Despair is sinking in Katara’s stomach, as Yin relieves the pair of the empty vials. 

At that moment, the Headmaster is entering, followed by Professor Iroh. 

“Are you two aware of the damage you have caused?” Pakku’s silver hair is streaming behind him as he halts in front of them.

All at once Zuko and Katara talk over each other.

“She hit me with a pie!”

“He bewitched the floor to swallow me!”

“ _Enough!”_ Pakku bellows.

They startle and sober at his tone.

“You will both be serving detention for what you have done.”

Horror glints in their eyes at the concept.

“Two month’s worth.” Pakku’s eyes narrow. 

“What?”

“That’s not fair!”

They stammer and cry out as the judgement is passed.

Pakku stoic expression is resolute. “The entire floor of the hallway is damaged and it’s compromising the structure of the castle. Not to mention, dozens of windows were blown out and several antique armor suits are beyond the _reparo_ spell!”

Zuko flails at the accusation. “But she started-”

“Silence!” Pakku shouts. “I have heard of this little rivalry.” He gestures between Katara and Zuko. “And it’s time it is resolved. You will serve detention _together_.”

 _No no no, this isn’t happening._ Katara’s heart is pounding in her eyeballs--she’s shaking.

She and Zuko shout at the same time.

“Please Sir, I’ll do anything--”

“Fucking hell! God, why--”

“Nephew.” Iroh raises his hand calmly, and silence falls. He turns to Pakku. “If it’s alright with you, I volunteer to take on the duty of chaperoning the detentions, I have tasks that they can help with.” 

Iroh’s voice is scratchy and kind. His grey hair is always well kept and he wears long dark green robes. His eyes crinkle; he has a peaceful way about him, and it’s usually calming for everyone. Katara knows he will be fair. 

Pakku sighs, considering his options. “Very well.” He nods. “I will be sending an owl home to each of your parents.” He continues firmly, “and fifty points will be removed from Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

Katara’s posture sinks and so does Zuko’s, they turn and glare at each other. 

“I will need to keep them both here overnight.” Madame Yin pipes in gently.

“ _What? Why?”_ They cry in unison.

“Transfiguration spells can fluctuate; it’s best if you stay for tonight.” She says solemnly.

Pakku ignores the whining and bows to Madame Yin who returns the gesture, then he turns for the door, sweeping his blue robes behind him. Iroh bows to Katara and Yin, then turns to Zuko. “Don’t worry nephew, I believe this is for the best.” And with that, he takes his exit.

Zuko rounds to Madame Yin. “Kay, I want a bed on the opposite side of the room from her.” He announces, jabbing a finger at Katara.

“Ditto!” She surges to her feet and marches to the opposite end of the room. 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Zuko get hit with a waft of her scent as she passes. He turns neon pink and grabs the pillow from the top of the bed. He slams his face in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, a night at the hospital! DUN DUN DUUNN!!
> 
> Let's see how these two adjust to their new circumstances ;)
> 
> Important: I just want to mention that I don't hate maiko or kataang, I respect all the ships <3 <3 I just happen to be head over heals for zutara! <3


	3. Barely Even Friends, The Somebody Bends, Unexpectedly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something they both need--and want but they won't admit it--but God forbid they share the truth with each other. 
> 
> The transfiguration spell changed more than just their bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes Soft Zuko. I'm so excited!
> 
> let's see what shenanigans these two get up to in the hospital! <3
> 
> warnings:  
> -tooth rotting fluff  
> -pining  
> -an implied erection  
> -teenagers being ridiculous

Even though Zuko is on the opposite side of the room, he can hear everything like the events and the people are living in his freaking ear drum; an unwelcome side effect of the spell so graciously bestowed on him by Katara.

“I’m sorry, Katara.” Sokka is at her bedside comforting her, talking quietly. “We can’t replace your wand just yet.”

“How long?” Her voice cracks on the last word.

Zuko’s hands pause as he butters a roll. Madame Yin had their dinner’s brought up, out of courtesy, to avoid any unwanted eyes gawking at their new ears.

“...At least two months before Dad can save enough money.” Sokka squeezes her hand.

A swell of something rises in Zuko’s stomach and he hates the way he hears Katara’s breath shatter into a small sob; and then he hates himself for hating that, because they are supposed to be sworn enemies. His emotions have been so confusing lately. In his periphery, he sees her head hang in her hands. 

He had some idea that her family was struggling monetarily but he didn’t know it was this bad. His appetite suddenly abandons him altogether and he sets the tray on his side table. His friends kindly brought him some items from his dorm room, so he picks up a book and pretends to read.

“Hey, Honey!” Jet meanders in with his hands in his pockets.

This guy gives Zuko the creeps, he can’t put his finger on it but it’s something about the eyes. He sniffs the air, Jet’s scent is subdued--he wasn’t hit with the hormone enhancing spell--but it wreaks, an unpleasant putrid thing.

Jet sits on Katara’s bed, leaning against the headboard. She rests her head on his chest. Zuko notes that he doesn’t put his arm around her. 

After a few minutes of light chitchat, Sokka excuses himself. As soon as his robes disappear around the corner, Jet shoves Katara off his chest. “Ugh, you know I hate that.” His face is contorted in disgust.

The movement is so sudden Katara gasps and catches herself on the edge of the bed.

Zuko’s blood reacts violently. _What the hell?_ A venomous growl tumbles out of his throat, he didn’t know he could make that sound; he covers it with a cough.

He watches out of the corner of his eye as Jet sits in Sokka’s chair and grips Katara’s wrist.

“Did you get it?” He hisses.

She shrinks from his expression and mumbles, “No, I couldn’t, Jet. Obviously.” She gestures to her pointy ears.

“Ugh, now I have to do it myself.” He tosses her wrist back to her and gets up. “I’m going to dinner.” He doesn’t look back as he sweeps from the hospital wing.

Katara crumples, lying back down in the covers, curling into a ball. Her sobs are silent but she shakes. The thought overwhelms Zuko before can stop it; he wants to comfort her.

* * *

The feeling continues as the night wears on, he doesn’t know why, and it really doesn’t help that he can smell her from across the room. 

Her scent is rich; sweet and a little sharp. It’s a combination of honey suckle, and something like amber with a mix of spices--probably potion ingredients--and there’s that deeper smell that he can’t place. It’s warm, vibrant and intoxicating. Something in his molecules is craving it, he wants it closer, needs it closer. He imagines pressing his face in her neck and drinking it in from its source. These thoughts are accompanied by _must protect_ and _must provide._

That is probably something to do with how the canid spell messed with his body, he reasons, but it’s an itch that he wants to scratch and it’s only intensifying with every hour that passes. He has a sneaking feeling that he won’t be soothed until he can take a few deep breaths of the radiance that is so vibrantly coursing off of her.

At round 9:00pm, when Zuko has had enough of pretending to study while secretly inhaling deeply at the slightest air current, Madame Yin bids them goodnight, assuring them that if she is needed they can ring a bell to her room, which is a few doors down the hall.

They use separate bathrooms to change and ready themselves for bed. Zuko notices that his ears have returned to normal as he pulls on his sweat pants and white t-shirt. Keeping their eyes averted, they climb under the covers of their rickety hospital beds.

Zuko stupidly watches the clock lose two hours, he’s wide awake and he can’t sleep. Katara’s breathing is unsteady, he can hear it clear as day, she’s awake too. Her inhales sometimes stagger with light sobs, this wrenches Zuko’s heart in a way that makes his protective instincts fire up. He blames his enhanced hormones.

He wonders if she’s experiencing similar symptoms to his. Maybe she’s craving his scent, maybe he can soothe her.

Now he’s fighting with himself. Should he offer her his...scent? It doesn’t make any sense and she’s probably still fuming or plotting her next prank to get back at him--and rightly so--for the bullshit he pulled earlier today. 

Another hour of tossing and turning Zuko can’t take it much longer. He sits up, letting his feet sink into the cool stone floor before centering himself to stand. He scrubs his hands over his face, steeling himself, praying he has the right words.

With a determined and shaky hair, he sets off, padding down the aisle of beds. The moonlight gathers around his feet and he wonders if she can hear him approaching, because his breathing is louder than an earthquake. _God._

He stops at the side of her bed; she’s turned away, but the moon baths her in a light that’s pure and holy, she’s glowing even now, even in pain.

He kneels down unsure of how to begin. With trembling fingers he reaches out to lightly brush her arm.

“Katara?” He whispers.

Before his hand reaches her skin she whips to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The sheer force of her glare propels him back and he catches himself with his hand behind him. 

“Wha--I--I came because--I--”

“Because what? Haven’t you done enough? Go away.” There’s anger in her voice and it’s justified, he knows it.

Her blankets shift as she props herself up on one elbow. There’s a swirl of her scent that hits him in the nasal passage with ferocity, and it makes him want to wrap her up, to comfort her.

The aroma causes his breath to skid, and his eyes are drawn to the way her t-shirt is draped over one shoulder. 

He must look unsteady when he inhales because her eyes study his reaction. In the pause, he tries again.

“I think that spell did something to me, and I think we can help each other.” He’s surprised at the deep texture in his voice. While he’s speaking, he moves carefully, trying not to frighten her, shifting to sit on his feet--and scoot a little closer.

Her eyes search his for a moment, she’s clearly considering something. For the time being, she’s not exploding at him so he takes the window.

“Look, I know I was an ass today, I can own that. But I can’t sleep and it seems you can’t either.”

Her breathing is changing, it’s shallow and her cheeks are flushing. Is she reacting to his scent? For a moment, he thinks he sees her eyes trace his form. But can’t be, it’s just a trick of the light.

“And--I--I think…” He’s losing his words because she smells amazing and now he’s shaking. “CanIsmellyou?” 

He knows he’s made a grave error the second the words leave his mouth. Her eyes have an unreadable look and then she narrows them in anger.

“Get away from me!” She shrinks away to the far side of the bed, pulling the blankets to her chest protectively.

He raises his hands in surrender, internally whipping himself. “I’m so sorry--I--”

“Go!” She barks, with fire in her eyes.

Zuko’s heart wrenches and he clamors to his feet. He pads back to his own bed and throws himself down face first.

He should have known better than to scare her like that. She looked so frightened. He pounds his pillow with his fist. _Can I smell you?_ He must have sounded like a pervert to her, and that’s the last thing he wants right now.

* * *

There’s something missing and Katara can’t figure out what. She feels so warm and her skin crawls with a need she can’t place. An hour inches by as she tosses and turns. Her sweatpants feel too warm and then not warm enough. Her ears are normal again but her scent receptors are still off the charts.

It’s been a hellish day, what with Jet being cold and then earning detention with the piece of shit that is lying in a bed across the room.

_Zuko._

Even in the dark, she can see his form, so strong, illuminated by the tendrils of the moon. She imagines his strong arms holding her, his scent enveloping her.

_What the hell is wrong with you?_ It’s not the first time thoughts like these have invaded her mind this evening. And why the hell does she feel so _wet?_

Truth be told, she’s craving his scent, it soothed her--and woke up a few other things--when she first smelled it and now she craves it, needs it. If only she could get one deep breath of it then perhaps she could sleep.

No! She can’t, she hates him, he’s an asshole, he even admitted it when he came to her bedside to ask--what was it? Smell her? _What an ass!_

But a quiet thought in her brain persists. Perhaps he’s feeling something similar, he seemed genuine when he made his request however garbled. Her scent seems to have a strange power over him too. She blushes remembering how his eyes had rolled over her and his tongue wetted his lips--she slams the door on that thought.

She tried to smell Jet when he came to visit but his scent was dulled and little putrid. His hormones and oils were not enhanced like Zuko’s and it wasn’t soothing, infact, quite the opposite.

Every once in a while, a plume of scent winds it way over to her bed and she inhales deeply, but it’s a ghost of the real thing, just crumbs of the nourishment that she _needs._ Why is she crying? All she can think about is Zuko’s scent, her body demands it. 

She wonders if her reaction to his request angered him and if she approached him now would she be turned away. Should she? _Yes! No! Yes--shut up!_

Without consent from her brain, her legs swing over the side of the bed, she’s unsteady when she stands. She walks lightly, afraid to startle him, as she makes her way down the isle of beds, slicing through the moonlight with her shadow.

She’s trembling when she stops in front of Zuko’s bed, he’s facing away. Tears are already clogging up her vision; he smells so good.

He must hear her broken breathing because he turns, eyes full of--is that concern?

“Katara?” He whispers, a breathy sound. His voice isn’t accusing, it’s something else.

“I--um--I think--” She wrings her hands as her words fall apart in her mouth, she sobs once. “Can I--I’m--I--” Her tears are too thick and she suddenly feels ashamed, and her request feels stupid.

_Abort!_ Her mind commands and she gasps a sob as she turns and flees. 

“Wait!” Zuko cries but she ignores him.

She’s racing back to her own bed, sobbing, as her form breaks apart the moonbeams. She so overcome she doesn’t hear his bed springs coil and release. 

There’s a flurry of footsteps and then a warm hand grabs her wrist, it’s firm but gentle. It spins her and tows her into a warm chest. 

“Breathe.” Zuko’s voice is in her ear, deep and ragged.

Arms wrap around her, solid but pliant. His scent fills her nostrils instantly. Her breath staggers and she gasps at the potency. A sob and a garbled moan escape her lips, it’s crazy that she’s not even embarrassed, because his scent soothes her beyond belief.

It’s like a deep gasp after being underwater for too long, it burns for a second and then relief floods her, calming every frayed nerve.

Her awareness is prickling but she’s still too overcome to register that Zuko’s face is pressed into her neck; he’s breathing deeply too. His hands are brushing her back, flooding warmth down her spine as he whispers soothing words.

“Just breathe, it’s okay.” He’s never used that tone with her before, it’s so urgent and soft.

Her face is firmly planted in his neck and her hands fist and kneed into his back. She’s still gasping and sobbing, her olfactory receptors are screaming with relief and something else. Her lungs chase his scent; Cinnamon, walnuts, spices--or is it tea leaves?--and that deeper smell, the sweet hot smell with a hint of something tart but not a bad tart. 

Zuko makes a soothing sound and she likes it, clings to it even. She burrows deeper into him and he moves with her pressing her closer.

She’s responding to his touch, and his heart roars in victory and so do a few other key areas. _Go to sleep, please!_ He begs his penis. 

His touch and soothing words are working and he can’t help but feel a ridiculous sense of pride about it. He’s wanted to soothe her from the second the effects of the spell changed their bodies. 

It takes several minutes but eventually her breathing evens out and begins to synchronize with his. They stand there, swaying in the gentle brilliance of the moon. Sometimes Zuko whispers soothing words or just makes soothing sounds and it helps. So much. 

As her awareness widens, she wonders at his kindness. Why is he helping her? She also notices the slightest bit of friction where their centers of gravity are pressed together, she doesn’t mind that. Not at all.

Her grip slackens and she pulls back slightly, a blush rising in her cheeks. His hands slide down her back and hold her waist firmly.

“Better?” He whispers.

She nods, keeping a hold of his chest to steady herself. “Thank you.”

She doesn't meet his eyes as emotions pass through her face and land on shame. She tries to step away but Zuko’s hands stay on her waist.

“Don’t be ashamed.” He reassures her gently. “I needed that too.” He offers a tentative smile.

She returns it weakly, and it’s ludicrous how much serotonin that gives him. 

There are still tears spattering her cheeks, he fights the urge to wipe them away for her. 

“I..I did this to us.” Her posture sags. “I’m sorry.” She’s looking down again.

He gives in and cups her cheek, she visibly shivers but she leans into his hand. His insides fist pump. He wipes away the moisture gently. 

She sighs into his touch, as warm tender fingers work against her skin.

“It’s okay.” He would be lying if he said didn’t enjoy their little gasping-and-grasping session. His conscience politely whips him internally for that thought. “I’m sorry too.” Why is he crooning?

The words settle around them, clearing the air scattering the hatred that once plagued them. Katara smiles, and it’s like the sun breaking through a storm. “That’s the first time we’ve said that.”

He smiles and he isn’t aware that his hands press into her waist a little more, rubbing minutely. “Don’t get used to it.” He replies, darkly, with a wry smile that disguises mirth.

They dissolve into quiet laughter, neither one letting go of the other. When they sober, Katara’s eyebrows furrow in thought. 

“How are we gonna get through these next few weeks?” She asks with concern in her eyes.

An idea comes to him. It’s a special kind of stupid but he opens his mouth anyway.

“Maybe, just for tonight, we can call a truce, take a break from planning each other’s demise.” 

She snorts in amusement, nodding, agreeing, but she keeps quiet, sensing he has more to say.

“And maybe…” He hesitates, “We should sleep next to each other.”

Katara’s breath snags. Her instinct weirdly screams _Yes!_ But a whirlwind of doubt pulls her back down. What will Jet think? Does Jet need to know? Is this appropriate?

Zuko sees her face contort with questions and he hurries to explain. “I think if we don’t, then the feeling of need will just come back.”

As he’s speaking, he’s already feeling her scent pulling him in again but he resists, he doesn't have her permission to smell her so intimately like that. He only got away with it the first time because it was a dire situation. 

Katara is hesitating but clearly she needs his scent again, already, because her hands are kneading into his shirt and she’s taking deep breaths.

“I promise I’ll be respectful.” He adds. _Why am I still crooning_?

She meets his eyes and maybe it’s a combination of her need and the way he smells but something she sees makes her feel safe and she knows he means what he says.

“Okay.” She nods.

That’s consent enough for Zuko. He takes one of her hands and pulls her to his bed. He climbs in first, turning to face her, propping himself on an elbow. He adjusts the pillow and holds his hand out to her. 

She takes it, accepting the help. The bed dips down and she let’s Zuko guide her in. 

Her head rests neatly on the pillow and for a moment they face each other. 

Zuko’s face becomes thoughtful, he seems to be remembering something.

What he does next surprises her. His hand comes to rest on the nape of her neck. “C’mere,” and he draws her head to rest on his chest. The way he moves is slow and gentle, not demanding. She likes the way his fingers are warm and they press into her neck, soothing it.

It’s comfortable, too comfortable and she thinks she’s imagining that his heart is beating at an unnatural speed when her ear is flush against his heart.

“This ok?” he asks and his breath is washing down from the top of her head and she shivers.

“Yeah.” She croaks.

She moves tentatively, but she finds he isn’t fragile when she needs to adjust her weight slightly. He moves with her. One of her hands flattens on his chest and she takes a minute to notch her head in just the right way so her nose can take in his scent. There’s a nagging fear that she will be shoved off or reprimanded, but he lets her take her time.

Warm fingers find her elbow, supporting it and she likes that. Something hot is pouring into her hair and then she realizes his face is pressed there.

When everything is just right, Zuko pulls the blanket up to cover them, and his hands resume their stations, holding her to him.

It’s perfect and wonderful and she feels _warm, good, and safe._ Her brain provides the adjectives without her knowing and her heart rate picks up. This is the most comfortable she’s felt in a while and it’s bizarre that it’s Zuko’s arms but it just feels right. For the first, in a long time, she feels her body relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe <3


	4. Good Night, Worthy Opponent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Zuko are sharing a bed!
> 
> Through a series of circumstances they realize they've never really talked.
> 
> Katara makes an offer.
> 
> And there is another mysterious appearance of YWO.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the second chapter at the hospital!
> 
> Here comes a whole bunch of cuddles, tropes, fun and fluff. And some plot too! believe it or not ;)
> 
> Warnings (just in case):  
> -an implied erection (but nothing more than that happens)  
> -sexual tension  
> -tooth rotting fluff  
> -fun

_Katara is trusting me! She’s trusting me!_

The thought won’t leave Zuko alone. He slept peacefully for a few hours but now the warm pressure of her body is keeping him awake. Wide awake, and he’s still pleading with parts of his body to _go to sleep, for the love of God!_

Barely twelve hours ago they were arch enemies and now she’s resting in his arms, breathing evenly. 

He lowers his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. Her sharp scent fills his lungs and soothes him. It was a good decision to ask her to join him, they’re free to drink each other’s scent in whenever they need. Once or twice, Katara buried her nose in his neck and mumbled something inaudible in her sleep. It’s endearing and it doesn’t mind helping her. He figures they can resume their arch-enemy-status after they deal with these symptoms. 

There’s a feeling creeping in his corners and it has an undeniable quality akin to wholeness and rightness and goodness; it arrives so nonchalantly that he almost doesn't catch it but as soon as he does, he shoves it down.

“Mmm,” Katara stirs, lifting her head slightly, “huh?”

She gasps at their intimate position and makes to shove herself away. 

“It’s okay, it’s me.” Zuko brushes her arm. “You’re safe.” He’s continually surprised at how tender he is to her. It’s just a side effect, he reasons.

She pants for a few more seconds before she gets her bearings; recognition returns and she lowers her head to his chest once more.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpers covering her face. “I’m so stupid.” Her voice cracks on the last word.

He gently rubs her back and wonders why the most clever witch in the school would ever think so low of herself. If she wished it, she could align the stars with one wave of her hand. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was her who commands the rhythm of the Sun and the Moon--He shakes himself. There can only be one explanation for her self doubt; a burning weight that wreaks putrid in his memory spits out one word into the forefront of his brain.

_Jet._

His insides roil for a few seconds and then he settles on humor. “I’m probably more stupid.”

She pulls back to give in an incredulous look. “I’m allergic to bullshit, ya know.” A smile is curling on her lips and his heart is victory pumping. 

He deadpans, “I’m serious. In fact, I’m cereal--I’m dead cereal!” 

Her response is a playful whack to his chest. He grunts and pulls her closer. His hand finds her side and tickles mercilessly. He wonders for a split second if this type of touch is okay with her, but she shrieks and a ripple of laughter escapes her lips.

She wriggles, half clinging to him and half trying to get away. She might be small but she’s strong. Assessing that she is more than okay with playfully attacking one another, he quickly realizes that he has to pin her beneath him to keep her from escaping.

“Zuko! L--lemme go--ack!” 

“I’ll let you go when you say you’re not stupid,” He says cooly.

“No!” Her laughter rings out.

She claws her hands into the mattress, writhing at the way his clever fingers work against her side.

“Okay, your highness, I guess we’ll just stay like this then.” He intensifies the tickling and she screams.

He’s laughing too now, as he closes his fingers around her wrist and anchors it to the pillow.

She stills and a pair of luminescent pools of light look up at him. The moon casts her features in a heavenly glow. And something about the way she is lying beneath him and the way her hair falls on the pillow like water bursting forth from a damn makes him still too.

He’s suddenly aware of her cheeks flushing a deep crimson and the fact that there is a significant amount of friction between their cores where he is holding her to the bed. His breath is a jagged mess and her’s is still splintering with aftershocks of giggles.

She doesn't move away, and her expression softens. The corners of her eyes narrow and with her free hand she reaches up to fist her fingers in his shirt. She pulls herself up to his ear, her breath ghosts over his neck drawing shivers from his lungs.

“I’m not stupid.” She whispers. Her leg hooks around his and she flips him onto his back. “I win!” She looks positively gleeful as she pins him down.

It’s absurd how happy that makes him, and it’s so refreshing to see her smile. He hasn’t seen her this happy in months. This is the Katara he remembers, the playful, mischievous girl who always keeps him on his toes; his worthy opponent.

She’s straddling him and a shiver is apparent in his next words. “W-was that so hard?” 

“No.” She shifts her weight and his breath flutters at the sensation.

She freezes, and a rush of red rises up her neck. She clammers off of him, settling back on the pillow. His arms come around her automatically, but more loosely this time, so they can face each other.

She grins, “You think I’m smart.”

He’s relieved she chose humor to cut the tension of whatever just happened. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, watergirl,” He can’t help but grin back, “I said _you’re not stupid,_ there’s a difference.”

That earns him another whack on the shoulder.

“Ow!” He pouts, rubbing it for a moment. _God, she is strong_. After a moment he sobers. “Hey. I--I…” He hates that he’s fumbling his words. “Listen, for the record, I think you’re really smart.”

Katara is stunned. She opens her mouth to speak a few times but closes it. Her expression shifts and Zuko’s heart aches because there is a hint of sadness; there’s wonder too and a touch of a hope in the corner of her mouth. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He laces his fingers together on her lower back. “And I’ve always seen us as…” The word rises to the top of his mind and feels it’s safe to say, “Equals.”

Her eyes grow thoughtful and her hands curl into her; a moment passes. “If this is another prank, I swear to God--”

“No! No, no. It’s not. I mean it.” He’s fervent, and guilt stings him because she has every right to assume he’s not sincere.

She quiets and her brows knit together, indicating for him to explain.

“You excel in all your subjects, and you’re really the only person who can whoop my ass at dueling. You make me want to do better.” Then he smiles at his next words, “Like a worthy opponent.”

Her eyes lift with something tentative and he realizes they’ve never really talked, ever, like never strung words together to make conversation, and certainly never to open up. 

His stomach twists, and he knows their shared past probably has something to do with the fact that she is unsure of what to say right now.

A moment hangs in the air around them, each regarding the other quietly and it’s like when the sun breaks over the mountains and light scatters across the fields revealing their majesty.

Zuko feels her eyes piercing his soul and something about her gaze is different, like she’s seeing him for the first time.

A lock of hair drapes to slant in front of her eyes and Zuko has an all out internal nuclear war to stop himself from tenderly scooping it away.

“In many ways, you’re more powerful than me.” He adds.

“Humility doesn’t suit you, Zuko.” She smiles wryly.

He feels her reverting to humor, she’s shutting down. “Can we pause with sarcasm, not everything I say is a joke.” Without permission, his hand tenderly tucks the stray piece of hair away from her eyes. She doesn’t pull away, and her gaze is trained on his face. 

She quiets once more and looks thoughtful. “You really mean it.” 

“Yes.” He answers with all seriousness and he presses his hands into her waist, rubbing gently. It’s warm where his fingers draw circles and she doesn't pull away. The moon catches her smile, the shy one where she bites her lip in that sweet way.

He wants to complement her further, so he does. “I wish I could do wand-less magic like you.” He shrugs, “but I can’t.”’

“You’ve never been able to?” Her hands rest on his chest and he likes that.

“Never.”

She chews on her lip for a moment, clearly considering something. A full minute passes.

“I know someone who can teach you. If you want.”

He nearly chokes because Katara is offering him help. “Really?”

“You know Aang, right?”

“The annoying kid?” Zuko smirks.

“Don’t overlook him, he’s taught me alot.” She reproachfully taps a finger on his chest.

“Hmph.” Zuko grunts. He’s a little miffed at the idea but more intrigued that she’s revealing her secrets. 

Katara sees him considering and adds, “Since we are _worthy opponents_ , I think it would be nice to get you up to my level for once.” She snorts with mirth.

“Hey now!” He tickles her side for a moment and she squeals. Why does that sound like music to him?

“Oh come on, Zuko. Our duels would be so epic if we didn’t need wands. Imagine!”

She’s not wrong, and her enthusiasm is palpable and infectious so can’t help but let consent fall out of his mouth automatically.

“Ok fine.” He can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yes!” She bounces with excitement and the bed bounces with her. “I’ll tell him tomorrow and we can pick a time.”

Zuko’s mind latches on the word _we_ in that sentence. Does she mean to come with him? He surprisingly has no problem with that. 

“Sounds good.” He drawls, and then Katara surprises him.

“This is going to be so fun!” She throws her arms around his neck and brushes her nose against the skin there, taking in a deep breath of his scent.

He can’t help but shiver, thankfully it doesn’t seem to bother Katara. Nor does she mind when he presses his nose in her neck for a long beat. He likes the way her shirt pools around his hands when he holds her to him. And she seems so much more relaxed since they’ve been sharing a bed tonight.

They stay like that, just breathing and relaxing for several minutes and then exhaustion threatens his eyes. 

“We should get some sleep.” He pulls back to read her face

She makes a pouty face that is unfairly adorable and it somehow changes his body chemistry.

“Some of us have detention tomorrow.” He adds, raising an eyebrow.

Is that a contented sigh? It sure sounds like it when she nestles herself into his chest and her fingers draw lazy circles into his shirt. Little trails of electricity thrill him where she touches.

“Good night, worthy opponent.” He feels her say.

“Good night.” He smiles into her hair.

* * *

Katara’s eyelids peel open. Soft grey light is curling in through the windows. Her sleep was deep and cleansing and she feels refreshed. Humming contently, she strokes her fingers into the mattress.

An empty mattress.

Zuko is gone but his scent remains, and wonderfully so. For a moment she panics. _Was last night just a dream?_ Her breath becomes shallow as she props herself up on an elbow. She sees that she is not in her original bed, she’s in Zuko’s bed.

_It was real, all of it_. She smiles at the memory of his fluttering heartbeat as she fell asleep to the steady rhythm.

“Good morning!”

Katara jumps at the sound of Madame Yin’s voice approaching. _Oh shit! She knows we slept in the same bed. This is it, I’m doomed, I’m getting expelled for sleeping next to a boy._

But Madame Yin just smiles and places a cup of coffee next to the bed. “You look rested! And your ears are quite human.” She beams fondly and her eyes crinkle as she turns to walk to her desk.

_Not expelled, thank you sweet baby Merlin! But where is Zuko?_

“Thank you.” Katara manages to croak with a hoarse morning voice. She gratefully pulls the cup of coffee to her lips and drinks deeply.

“Did Zuko leave?” She winces at her own choice of words. _Obviously Zuko isn’t here, dingus!_

Madame Yin looks up through a pair of spectacles trying to remember something. “Yes, he left early, said something about sending an owl.” 

“Oh.” Her voice shakes as she wonders what owl could have been so important.

“Your robes have been freshly pressed and you are free to go down to breakfast if you wish.” Madame Yin bows her head.

“Thank you, I think I will!” Katara can already feel the need to smell Zuko again. Not just his shadow that lingers in the air, but the full potent aroma that is Zuko.

* * *

Walking into the Great Hall is like being hit with a firehose of scent. So many people, so many different smells. Individually, each person’s scent is dulled, and not nearly as potent as Zuko’s but all together it’s a force of nature. Not to mention the food smells amazing.

Bacon, eggs, muffins, tea, orange juice. It’s like food has magnetic pull that wasn’t there before and her stomach growls as she takes her seat and begins loading a plate, no, overflowing it.

Sokka, Toph and the rest of her friends have already eaten and dispersed for the start of the day, but she doesn’t mind eating alone.

As she is cramming bacon into her mouth, her eyes scan the Slytherin table. Zuko isn’t there, but his scent remains. He was here. She can pinpoint the seat he chose but it’s just a ghost of the full lush scent that she’s craving.

She pours a healthy cup of jasmine tea and dives into her eggs. She can worry about finding Zuko after she satisfies her stomach. 

The arrival of the mail is announced by the soft whooshing of wings far above.

THWAP

A parcel lands roughly on the table spilling her tea. It’s a long thin package wrapped in brown paper. She jumps at the surprise but recovers when she sees it’s addressed to her. She’s surprised to say least; nothing has been ordered.

There’s a note. With a shaky hand she opens the envelope.

_A patron purchased this for you, they gave no name other than YWO._

_This is the wand that chose you when you were a little girl. I saved it for you, knew you’d be back one day when you could afford it._

_Sincerely,_

_Goro, Head Wizard of Sun Warrior Wands, makers of fine wands since 382 BC._

A gasp rips through her, flushing hope through her chest. _Can it be?_ She hurries to untie the string and rip the paper away.

A dark leather box is revealed and she finds it smells devine. Lifting the lid carefully, she gasps again and tears rebel against her lids and escape down her cheeks.

She tentatively wraps her fingers around the handle. Magnetic, instant, it remembers her, and it’s like a part of her that was missing has returned. It’s weighted and cool in her palm, just as she remembers it to be.

Designs twist and coil around the stem, revealing the rich red quality of Cherry wood. 

“Oh.” She sighs at the craftsmanship.

She peers at the tip, there it is; a dragon heartstring core. She knows this means it is of the most powerful variety of wands. A grin is spreading on her face.

Power is pulsing in her palm where she grips the wood. She gives it a light wave. Colorful sparks erupt from the end and dance around her before flickering out. Her eyes speckle with colors and nearby students ooh and ah at the sight.

This wand responds to her in a way that her basic wand never could. It’s like it knows her, sees her, and wants to do her bidding. It will make a splendid replacement for her broken wand.

_Thank you YWO whoever you are!_ She hugs the wand close to her chest.

A pair of eyes watch silently from the Great Doors. A smile grows as the scene unfolds.

_Who is YWO?_ Katara wonders, she wants to know, to thank them. Clearly this person is an angel. 

“Whatch-you got there honey?” Jet plops down next to her, chewing on a toothpick.

“Jet!” Excitement to share her luck with her boyfriend, wells up inside her, and then it fades just as quickly; their argument from the night before rolls into her consciousness. “...Um, are--are you still...mad at me?” 

“What? No! Of course not!” He squeezes her shoulder. “Tell me what you got there!”

Relief fills her and confusion. He was so angry last night, why is he the opposite today? _We didn’t even talk it through._ Then again, they never talk anything through.

“I..Um, this is--I--I,” she begins, fumbling through her words as her brain reels to catch up. “I received this from some anonymous person.” She holds up her wand triumphantly.

“Wow!” That looks expensive!” He remarks.

“Do you know anyone with the initials, YWO?” She asks him.

“Oh...you mean...me?” He smirks.

There’s a pause as she drinks in the meaning.

The pair of eyes watching from a distance narrow and a fist comes to pound on the doorframe. Robes whip around the corner and vanish from view.

“Just kidding!” Jet laughs, smacking his knee. “I can’t afford shit _that_ good. And if I could, I would rather buy that for me than you, no offense.”

“Oh.” Her eyes cast down as she fiddles with the wand.

A wisp of scent floats to her nose and she inhales deeply.

_Zuko is close._

“I have to go!” She blurts, rising up suddenly. 

“But--wha--I just got here!” Jet calls after her.

But Katara is already whipping down the aisle of tables and rounding the corner. She sees the back of Zuko’s head disappearing into a throng of students.

“Zuko!” She calls but he doesn’t stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! Jet! Why did you have to say that?
> 
> Dun dun duuuun!
> 
> The plot thickens and I'm looking forward to wandless magic practice and detention with these two goons <3


	5. Iron Sharpens Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Zuko avoiding Katara?
> 
> Things come to a head and something confuses Katara.
> 
> Uncle Iroh has some wise words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back with another chapter! I am so excited!
> 
> Okay, before diving in, I just want to say that this chapter is a bit more serious, I'm laying some ground work for character development and such! But I promise it's for a purpose! We are almost out of the woods, and you will see things improving by the end of this chapter! And next chapter will be a sweet oasis! *wink*
> 
> Here is a glossary of terms for this chapter, I had a blast doing research for this story! I use the Harry Potter fandom site:  
> -Wiggentree: a class of Rowan tree used in potion-making.  
> -Defodio spell: a charm used to gouge or carve out specific areas of material, such as earth or stone.  
> -Dittany: a magical plant used in potion-making. It is a powerful healing herb and restorative.

_ Zuko was probably just in a hurry _ , Katara repeats it to herself like a mantra.  _ He had to scoot back to his dorm to get his books, we all have to do that! Right? _

She sighs in relief, albeit a little shaky, as she steps into the familiar green house. She hasn’t had a single breath of his scent since last night and it’s affecting her nervous system.

The familiar smell of soil and green fills her nose, it’s a welcome bouquet of aroma and it’s somehow bolder with her enhanced sense of smell.

“Gather ‘round, gather ‘round.” Professor Bumi’s cheerful voice calls from the back of the room.

Placing her bag in her cubby, she scans the room for a red scar or a familiar scent. Every sixth year in the morning section of Herbology is in attendance, except for one.

Feet scuttle as the students gather around the head table. Sighing in defeat, Katara joins the throng, choosing to stand in the back, to keep her eye on the door.

“This is a Wiggentree!” Professor Bumi grins with excitement, his smile is toothy and kind, and a little wild, like his white hair. “It is a class of Rowan tree whose bark will protect those who touch it from dark creatures.” 

In appearance it resembles a Bonsai tree, in muggle terms, Katara notes to herself.

“Today we will be harvesting the bark. Like so...” He rolls up the sleeves of his black and yellow robes, and his weathered hands work delicately to slice the bark with a small knife.

A wisp of cinnamon and tea leaves finds Katara’s nose, Professor Bumi’s voice fades from her world and she whips around to see Zuko entering.

She nearly implodes as his scent fills her lungs; it’s the smallest wisp but it helps calm her slightly. She smiles, facing him, hoping he’ll look up to see her. Surely he can smell her too.

His eyes study the ground as he places his bag on his shelf, then he joins the group as Professor Bumi continues demonstrating. Zuko is standing a mere two feet from Katara, eyes trained on the teacher.

“Zuko?” Katara whispers.  _ Please see me, I’m right here.  _

He turns away and moves to a new spot around the side of the group, away from Katara. Her unease returns, and there was something strange in the way he didn’t respond to her.

* * *

After the demonstration, Katara takes her seat at her table which is usually across from Zuko. Suki greets her and smiles warmly, taking her seat next to Katara. Her short brown hair catches gems from the morning sun through the glass walls. 

Zuko joins the table, silently and without expression. Katara tries to read his face but to no avail, and it’s especially difficult since his eyes wander the room, never meeting hers. She’s used to being greeted with sarcasm or wit. Today she gets neither.

“Alright, here you go!” Professor Bumi chimes and with a wave of his wand a series of Wiggentrees float from their shelves and land one in front of each student.

The din of the room picks up as students chatter while they work.

Katara’s mouth is drier than the Si Wong desert. She swallows thickly, drawing her eyes up to see if Zuko will respond. “Zuko, could you pass me a knife please?” With an unsteady hand, she points to the supplies laid for them, clearly out of her reach.

Without meeting her eyes, he picks up a knife and his tree and leaves the table. She watches as he joins Ruon Jian’s table, a fellow Slytherin, and warmly says  _ Hello, how are you  _ before taking a seat.

Katara lowers her head, staring at her empty hands. Her jaw clenches as she fights back a boulder in her throat. There is no mistaking it this time; he is avoiding her.

“Katara?” Suki’s hand is on her shoulder. “Are you ok?” Her voice is soft enough so only the two girls can hear. 

“I’m fine.” Katara looks up and tries to smile, but it’s bitter and unconvincing. 

Suki knows her better than that, she gently takes her hand and offers a reassuring nod. “I don’t need to know what’s going on,” she rubs Katara’s knuckles, “but I’ll stay with you.”

“Thank you.” Her voice cracks and a tear peels away from her eye.

Suki gently wipes it and smiles warmly. “There. Now let’s see if we can figure out this bark harvesting thing.”

The warmth of her friend soothes her burning insides, and they work quietly together for the rest of class. 

* * *

Zuko’s chilly attitude continues through each class period. In Charms class, They learn the  _ Defodio _ spell for the first time. It’s used in carving and gouging; wizards of old hewn great gaves and dwellings with it. 

They have assigned seats in this class; and Katara is usually next to Zuko.

“Wow!” Katara offers a hesitant smile as she gestures to Zuko’s first attempt at carving his name. “That looks really good!”

His eyes stay focused on his stone, wand poised and working, his eyes never look up, nor does he respond.

Her stomach twists with embarrassment and frustration.  _ Why is he doing this?  _

Suki’s hand reaches for hers and the warmth steadies her as she painfully returns her eyes to her own work.

* * *

The need to inhale Zuko’s scent increases. And by the afternoon, Katara can barely focus. Her head feels cloudy and she’s jumpy and irritated.

She arrives on time for detention with Professor Iroh at four o’clock. His office is connected to his classroom. As she enters, a wall of Zuko’s scent hits her in the nostrils, and her knees almost buckle beneath her. 

“Hello, Katara, welcome!” Iroh smiles gesturing for her to take a seat in front of his desk, next to Zuko.

Zuko’s eyes are studying the shelves of ingredients that line the walls, and his expression is flat with his head turned away from her. His scent is strong though, and she tries and fails to inhale quietly.

“Now that you’re both here we can begin.” Iroh continues. “We will be using our time to brew a potion for one of the school’s Sky Bison. Appa is due to deliver a litter of calves within a matter of days.”

Iroh pauses, his audience is oddly quiet. Katara is shaking, trying to breathe steadily through her nose, while Zuko scowls at the wall with his jaw set.

Iroh’s hand rests on his silver beard for a moment as he eyes the pair in front of him. “Come with me.” He stands, gesturing for them to follow.

They follow reluctantly to this classroom, where six cauldrons are set up in the corner. 

Iroh has them work side by side; because of course. They crush an endless amount of dittany leaves with a mortar and pestle. Appa is a big girl and she will require a sizable amount of potion. Iroh explains that they will add new ingredients to the brew at each detention. Dittany will be for reducing inflammation after the birthing.

Nearly an hour goes by, it’s eerily quiet and the only sound is the grinding of the leaves and then occasional footsteps as they walk from the table to the cauldrons. Iroh joins them, periodically making an attempt at pleasant conversation but he’s met with dead silence every time.

It’s right about now that Katara is approaching desperation levels of needing to inhale Zuko’s scent. He doesn’t speak a word, doesn’t look at her and it stings somewhere deep down inside her, somewhere she doesn’t dare look.

Sometimes she thinks she imagines him taking a shaky deep breath. In her periphery, she swears he closes his eyes and shivers.

_ Asshole;  _ her ego flares.  _ A handsome asshole;  _ her subconscious adds.  _ Shut up, both of you!  _

It happens where they both approach the cauldrons at the same time to deposit their Dittany. Zuko’s elbow flies out, it knocks her roughly; her crushed leaves litter the floor.

Like a straw on a camel’s back her emotions spill over. A strangled sob breaches her lips and warm tears burst forth from her eyes.

“Zuko!” She cries as she stumbles. “What the hell is wrong with you? Haven’t you done enough?”

“No! I guess I haven’t!” His voice is already at a bellowing register.

His response doesn’t make sense to her but if he wants a row then it’s a row he’ll get.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day!” Katara jabs her finger at him.

“There’s a whole hell of a lot that  _ you’re  _ avoiding!” He takes a step closer.

“Says the man who spent last night helping me and now hates me more than ever” She takes a step closer

“I never said I hate you!” They’re nearly nose to nose now.

“Oh that’s right, you don’t!” Her eyes narrow and she stares him down before she delivers her next blow. “You just disregard everyone except for your Dad who doesn’t love you!”

Zuko’s nostril’s flare. She knows just where to strike and it  _ burns.  _

“Oh?” Zuko’s laugh is hollow. “What’s it like being fucking blind?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means! you deserve better than-”

“Nephew!” Iroh is sweeping into the room, having heard the ruckus from his office.

_ What did Zuko mean?  _ Katara’s head reels. In the pause, with their chests heaving, she sees his eyes are red with anger and something else.

“Katara.” Iroh interjects gently, coming beside her. “I apologize for the behavior of my nephew.” He speaks kindly as he glares side-long at Zuko. “You may leave early for today. I wish to speak privately with Zuko.” Iroh relieves her of the empty bowl and offers a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

She replies with a slurpy thank you, as she wipes her inflamed eyes. As quickly as she can she grabs her things and whips out the door.

It creeks and lightly clicks behind her. Zuko feels frozen as anger surges through him. He’s biting down tears and he doesn’t know why he shoved her. Scratch that, he knows exactly why and it’s his greatest folly. He wants to bang his head against a wall for the fear that he put in her eyes. She looked so hurt.  _ But what she said hurt me more!  _ His brain reels.

Iroh waves his wand and the fallen bits of Dittany collect and swirl together as they return to the bowl. He turns to Zuko. “Nephew, come have a cup of tea with me.” His voice is kind and comforting. 

Uncle Iroh is slow to anger, always correcting gently; every moment is a teachable moment to him and Zuko feels his ego deflating in the gentle presence of his Uncle.

“Okay.” He murmurs as his eyes sting.

They set the mortar and pestle’s aside, and make their way to Iroh’s office. Zuko sits in the armchair across from the desk and curls his legs into him and hugs himself, resting his chin on his knees. The window is conveniently placed so the last bits of the afternoon sun warm him.

Iroh waves his wand and the fireplace glows. He carefully places the teapot above the chorus of flames as he prepares the brew.

There’s a crinkle of a wrapper and Iroh approaches with a plate of freshly cracked chocolate pieces. “Here, this will help.” He says placing it between them on the desk as he takes his seat.

It does help, chocolate is weird like that. The knots in Zuko’s stomach ease a bit and he relaxes but he doesn’t feel like meeting his Uncle’s eyes just yet.

Iroh folds his hands in his lap and patiently gives his nephew time to chew his chocolate. Zuko is grateful that his Uncle isn’t pushy.

“Your owl has been very haggard lately.” Iroh comments, his tone is not accusatory.

“Druk? I wouldn’t know.” Zuko suddenly feels defensive.  _ Druk seems fine, thank you very much. _

“You have a very unique set of circumstances in front of you.” Iroh continues thoughtfully, taking a piece of chocolate.

Zuko is still confused by his first comment.

“But first and foremost I think you owe Miss Katara an apology.” He brushes the chocolate crumbs from his hands.

He’s not wrong, Zuko clenches his jaw, but  _ still.  _

“Perhaps give your owl a rest and use what is in front of you?”

“What does that even mean?” Now Zuko is miffed. His Uncle is always speaking in riddles and it drives him bananas.

“Do you know what sharpens iron? Iroh asks.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Zuko exasperates, with a mouthful of chocolate.

“Iron sharpens iron.” A smile is curling on the old man’s lips.

Zuko’s mouth stops moving, as he turns over the phrase in his mind. His brain immediately pulls up the image of Katara, dueling like a master, keeping him on his toes, making him want to do better, be faster, be stronger, be kinder.

He sighs and hangs his head in his hands. A few tears escape through his fingers and his lungs stagger. His hands smell like Dittany and faintly like Katara, from last night. He misses her scent so deeply that his lungs feel dry and they burn.

He reaches into the pocket of his robes and pulls out a small postage stamp sized photograph. It’s the only one his Dad would let him keep. She’s beautiful, radiant, and so full of wisdom and light.  _ Miss you Mom.  _ His throat tightens and it’s days like these that he misses the healing warmth of her presence.

“What would you do?” He asks the dark haired woman in the picture.

But no answer is given, she just smiles with eyes like jewels and hair like the velvet night sky.

Iroh reaches across to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Help Katara, and be Patient.”

Zuko doesn’t look up, he just cries quietly. He’s royally screwed Katara over and there is no way she will accept help from him. Not now, not like this. There’s a rustle of paper and a light scratch of quill. He scrubs his eyes and lifts his head to see Iroh writing something.

“What is--” But as he is speaking, Zuko sees three words appear upon the paper.

_ -apologize _

_ -hoodie _

_ -scenting _

* * *

Frantically wiping her eyes, Katara makes her way to the Great Hall for dinner. She’s praying that no one notices her swollen red eyes.

After her row with Zuko, she cried in her room until it was time for the evening meal.

Zuko’s words are still seared into her brain: _you deserve better than--_ than what? He was cut off before he could finish. Could he mean? No, it can’t be. There’s no way. The feeling of worthlessness in her heart is due to stress, from schoolwork, at least that’s what she tells herself.

Her hand slides up to grip her necklace, the medallion her mother gave her. She wraps her fingers around the cool shell, it’s smooth and her fingers have the carving memorized. Katara squeezes it once for strength as she rounds the corner and enters the dining hall.

She is hit with a wall of scent. Sniffing quickly she realizes Zuko is not there. Good, she thinks, he can’t make fun of her puffy eyes or cause any further trouble tonight.

“Hey Katara, how was detention!” Sokka chimes as she takes her seat next to him.

Good God, can she not have a moment’s rest?

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She hastily loads her plate with turkey breast and mashed potatoes, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Hey, are you okay?” He lowers his voice so only she can hear, but beside him, Suki has paused eating as well.

“I’m fine.” She hisses.

“She’s lying.” Toph’s voice floats from across the table, through a mouth full of green beans.

Katara’s fists slam on the table. “Why can’t you all just leave me alone?” 

Sokka jumps at her tone and silence falls. Katara stabs at her potatoes and is determinedly not looking at him. A moment of silence passes. He recovers, taking a breath, and turns to Toph.

“How was your demonstration in Herbology today, Toph?” He resumes a casual tone, but with something sad around the edges.

Katara’s stomach twists, she hates that she’s pushed him away more than once this term, and she hates that he’s had to adapt to her moods. He does it graciously, without complaining and it makes her loathe herself.

She barely listens as Toph explains how she and Professor Bumi demonstrated the earth softening spell. Toph’s passion is herbology and she excels in it.

Katara finishes her dinner as fast as she can, eager to return to her dorm and cry some more. She eats at light speed and excuses herself before desert.

She makes it almost all the way back to Gryffindor tower, when she hears light footsteps in the hallway behind her. Spinning at the sound, she sees Suki approaching.

“Katara, wait up!” She calls.

Katara stops and her brows furrow at the sight of her friend. In the light of the torches, Suki looks sad but there is something caring behind it.

“I don’t think Sokka meant any harm by asking about your detention.” Suki is a little out of breath from jogging. “He-he just likes to be playful, and he’s worried about you.”

Katara’s posture sinks, and guilt swings up her chest. “Suki, I’m sorry.” Her anger deflates from earlier. “I didn’t mean to take you from the Great Hall, you don’t have to check on me. I know you always look forward to dinner with Sokka.” She never wants for Suki to feel like she has to choose sides.

Suki blushes and smiles. “I suppose it’s no use lying to you. I do like him.” She fiddles with the sleeve of her robe.

They share a chuckle and it feels like a welcome contrast to the bitterness of the day.

“I’m glad.” Katara smiles and her eyes feel crusty from crying but she is happy for her friend.

“Honestly, though, Sokka is your brother, don’t be afraid to share your troubles with him.” Suki squeezes her hand.

A rush of sadness fills Katara as she realizes she hasn’t really had time to catch up with Sokka since the start of term. She’s been spending so much time with Jet, she just let everything else slip away.

“I can come back with you to the dorm and keep you company, if you like?” Suki offers, seeing her friend’s eyes mist again.

“No, no, it’s ok. I think I’m better off being alone right now.” Katara smiles weakly.

As the girls turn away, to each go their separate ways, there is a flutter of footsteps and a very out of breath Zuko rounds the corner. They freeze and for a moment Katara is stunned and then anger rises quickly.

“Katara!” He jogs towards them.

“You have some balls showing up like this!” She growls and makes to charge at him.

“Wait!” Suki’s hand is on her shoulder and  _ damn  _ she is strong. “Look at his eyes, I don’t think he’s here to fight.” She hisses in earnest to calm her friend.

Katara stops, Suki is right. Zuko’s eyes are red and there isn’t a trace of anger in his face. He stops in front of the girls, panting.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” He asks tentatively.

“Suki’s presence is the only thing that’s keeping me from killing you right now.” Katara’s nostrils flare.

He sighs, rolling his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose and whispers what sounds like, “Iron sharpens iron,” through his teeth.

_ What the hell?  _ “Well?” Katara blurts.

“Wha--I--I--I came...to apologize.” He straightens a little and swallows, as he finds his resolve. “I had no right to shove you and then to say what I did.”

Katara opens her mouth to ask him to explain  _ exactly what he said _ , because she remembers him not finishing his insult, but Suki elbows her. She glares at her friend as Zuko continues.

“I was avoiding you today, because I was selfish and stubborn.” His voice quavers and she meets his eyes. “I am sorry, Katara.”

Something about the way he says her name makes her see it; he’s being genuine. His eyes brim with moisture and her heart flutters. Her own eyes betray her with tears. She's not used to receiving such a sincere apology. Words pass between their eyes without a sound and a soft smile spreads on Zuko's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make some noise if you think Iroh knows what's up? LOL 
> 
> Gee I wonder what is was that Zuko was trying to say? *winks*
> 
> Up next! Something sweet!
> 
> And an apology from Katara! <3


	6. The Room of Requirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Zuko take his Uncle's advice and follow the list he was given?
> 
> Katara reciprocates the apology.
> 
> The pair overhear a concerning conversation.
> 
> How does the Room of Requirement fit into all of this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> It's time for Katara to apologize too!
> 
> This chapter was super fun to write and I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Soft Zutara returns!
> 
> warning:  
> -an excessive amount of cuteness and hugs  
> -scenting (it gets explained)  
> -tooth-rotting-fluff  
> -sexual tension (nothing that needs skipping)  
> -and a little bit of plot too, lol
> 
> This chapter happened to be shorter! <3

Katara is speechless and it’s right about now that she sees Suki inching away down the hall. She grabs her friend by the collar, for fear that without her she might blow up again. Suki lurches at the sudden movement and freezes.

Katara struggles for a few moments, trying to summon her words. Her breath staggers in and out and she silently notices that Zuko is being patient again; patient like he was last night, not rushing her as she settled into his chest. She is not used to how it makes her feel safe and respected.

Suki’s eyes are flitting between them and she’s wearing a half wince and a half smile, still frozen in the grip of Katara’s claw.

“I…” Katara takes a deep breath, “Am sorry too. I had no right to make that comment about your father.”

Zuko breathes a sigh and he offers a tentative smile, it’s small but warm. Something in the air is changing, shimmering, cleansing away the fear and resentment. Katara finds that her lungs are lighter and smiles too. It feels glorious juxtaposed next to the scowl she was wearing for the entire day.

“Does this mean I can leave?” Suki squeaks politely.

“Yes.” Katara and Zuko reply at the same time and then meet each other's eyes and share a soft laugh.

Katara releases Suki’s collar and who turns and hugs her friend, then Suki trots back in the direction of the Great Hall. As she passes Zuko she pounds his shoulder, and nods at him in approval.

“Ow!” Zuko whines, “she’s stronger than she realizes.” He jabs his thumb at her as she turns the corner and disappears.

Katara laughs and casts her eyes down to her feet, unsure of where to go from here.

“I brought something for you.” He takes a step forward.

It’s then she notices he’s been holding something this entire time, an article of clothing. He holds it out to her.

She takes it gingerly, eyeing him, unsure of its purpose. It’s impossibly soft to touch; a black fleece hoodie. As she holds it up, a passing draft lifts a ribbon of its scent to her nose. It’s strong and it smells like Zuko. Her starved animal instincts take over and she presses her face into the fabric. She sighs and groans in relief. 

“Thank you!” Her voice is muffled in the fabric. She doesn’t hear Zuko say  _ you’re welcome  _ because her need to be filled with his scent is too great. She rubs the hoodie on her face and neck, and then she flushes a deep crimson, realizing what she’s doing. “I--I’m sorry!” She looks up at him, her lips trembling.

“It’s ok, I don’t mind.” He takes a step closer and brushes her elbow. “That’s what it’s for. It’s called scenting, it’s what we did last night. Animals do it to soothe each other--well they do it for a few reasons actually,” he swallows, “but it seems like soothing is one of the big reasons for us. So it makes sense that we would need it after the spell changed us.”

She winces at the memory, “I’m sorry about--”

“You already apologized, and I want to help.” He smiles reassuringly.

Her shame lightens and she nods in understanding, hugging the item close to her chest. Somewhere, subconsciously, she wonders what the other reasons animals might have for scenting, but then an idea interrupts her train of thought. “Wait here!”

Before Zuko can answer she flies down the corridor. After ten minutes of rummaging through her trunk she darts back to where she left him in the hallway.

“I’m back” She smiles triumphantly as she comes into view, waving a T-shirt in her hand, panting from running. Her expression changes when she sees him sitting on the floor. “Oh no! I made you wait! I’m so--”

“No no, It’s ok,” he pops up from the floor, clearly not bothered, “I figured that’s what you were doing,” he points to the shirt in her hands.

She holds it up for him to see. It’s a T-shirt of her favorite band. On a dark green background, the words  _ My Cabbages _ are sprawled in a fun font. She and Sokka saw them live once, as her birthday present when she was thirteen.

“Nice! I love that band!” He’s happy as he accepts the item from her. Like she did, he raises it to his face and inhales deeply, releasing a groan. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She suddenly feels like she needs to study the ground and cover her neck with her hand, because her body chemistry violently changed at the sound he just made.

“If you want,” Zuko hesitates, “you can...smell me before you turn in for the night.”

Katara chews on that for a second, she’s been dying to bury her nose in his neck from the second she woke up this morning. She feels guilty, but he’s offering and she’s relieved he isn’t being cold anymore. She nods eagerly before her brain can really decide.

He opens his arms for her and she sinks into them like they are the softest cloud. His sweet and spicy scent fills her up and it’s soothing and something else. He warm palms smooth across her back, sending chills up her spine. She brushes her nose along his neck to pick up every subtlety of his aroma. His nose finds her cheek does the same, and his warm breath ghosts over her neck. Her muscles jump and she palpably shivers when his nose runs over the sensitive skin below her ear.

“I--I’m sorry.” She feels her neck heat.

“Don’t be.” His voice has a gravel texture, and he must realize she’s nervous because he pulls back, “is this too much?”

_ No it’s not enough!  _ Her brain roars and then stuffs that thought down. She settles with, “no it’s good.”  _ Really good,  _ her mind finishes.

Zuko smiles and guides her back in for more. All the anger and frustration from the day are dissolving and being replaced with a warm content feeling. Katara can’t help it when she hums and grips the back of his robes. She’s not imagining it when he lets out a low soft growl. But it’s just a side effect of the curse, she reminds herself.

“Just so you know,” his lips are in her ear, “I still plan on whooping your ass in everything this year.” 

There’s the Zuko she remembers, the cocky show off who makes her blood boil. She grins into his neck. “You are dreaming if you think you’re winning the dueling cup this year.”

He chuckles darkly, “we’ll see about that.”

She covers her shiver with a laugh and he tightens his grin on her waist.

The sound of footsteps approaching reaches their ears. He pulls her into a nearby alcove behind a suit of armor. There in the shadows, and she’s pressed between Zuko and the wall. Apparently, he wasn’t ready to end their little scenting session just yet, she’s fine with that. Totally fine.

“Headmaster, I think we would be acting prematurely to alert the White Lotus.” It’s Professor Iroh.

“It’s no coincidence Iroh, there was a breach in the Hall of Prophecy!” Pakku is urgent.

“Yes I know, but-”

“And only one prophecy went missing, the rest are accounted for!” The two figures stop right in front of the suit of armor. “Powdered dragon claw was stolen from your supplies, was it not?” Pakku demands.

Katara freezes, drawing in a tiny gasp. Zuko covers her mouth and presses a finger to his lips.

“Based on the sloppy nature of the theft, I think I know who it was and it’s not the first time.” Iroh chuckles. “I believe the nature of the incident to be trivial.”

She’s shaking, and inwardly spiraling. There’s only one person she knows of who has any interest in powdered dragon claw. Zuko feels her trembling and his brow furrows as he tries to read her.

The footsteps continue and the last thing they hear is, “I will keep my eyes open,” Iroh continues, “We both know what the signs of the times will be when the  _ duobus capitibus draconis  _ is upon us.”

Katara’s head wheels around, stirring her fear.  _ Duobus capitibus draconis?  _ What language is that? What does it mean? And what is the White Lotus? What prophecy was stolen? Somehow dread is sinking into her corners and she doesn’t know why.

Zuko releases her, but his eyes watch her thoughtfully. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She’s really not though, and she misses his warmth. “We’re gonna need to find a place to do our scenting privately.”

Zuko’s eyes light up suddenly, “I know a guy!”

* * *

“Uncle!’ Zuko knocks rapidly on a mahogany door.

Iroh has his own apartment on the south side of the castle away from all the classrooms and hustle and bustle.

The door creaks open and a squinty-eyed Iroh peers at Zuko. “Nephew, do you know what time it is?”

Zuko snorts at the sight of his Uncle in a night cap with frazzled hair.

“Nephew.” Iroh prompts with a flat stare and a raised eyebrow.

Zuko sobers quickly, remembering his purpose but secretly shoving down mirth at the hilarity of the situation. “I--I--I need place where Katara and I can--”

“Wait here.” Iroh deadpans and the door slams, but right before, a grin forms beneath the exhaustion on his face.

Zuko blinks steadily and a moment passes. A chorus of creaking hinges resumes as Iroh appears in the doorway again. He presses a rolled piece of parchment into Zuko’s hands.

“Seventh floor, follow the instructions.” Iroh grins and the door whips shut, but then it opens briefly once more. “Next time, perhaps consider coming to see me at a time later than six in the morning.” The door slams, rattling the frame.

Zuko winces as the gust of wind from the impact hits him in the face. “Hmph.” He huffs in indignation as he unrolls what appears to be a map. It’s hand drawn with an arrow leading through corridors pointing to a blank stretch of wall labelled  _ The Room of Requirement. _

* * *

“Ready?” Zuko asks as he approaches Katara outside the Great Hall.

The pair agreed to meet before breakfast to get one scenting session in before the start of the day.

“Mhm.” Her lower lip is caught between her teeth.

Zuko likes the way that pink suddenly appears on the apples of her cheeks. They make their way to the seventh floor corridor. It’s quiet and there are no classrooms. Zuko leads her to an empty stretch of wall.

“Here it is!” He gestures excitedly.

Katara’s eyebrows come together and then she rolls her eyes. “Is this a prank?”

“No!” Offended at her accusation, but then he recovers, “I’ll show you, come here.” Zuko takes her hand. “Think of a place that would work for what we need.” And then without warning he begins walking. Katara stumbles to keep up, and he internally whips himself for not explaining the process.

He pulls his focus to the instructions.  _ Walk past the wall three times, and think of what you need, be specific.  _ His eyes scrunch as he focuses.  _ Soft things, warm things, things Katara likes,  _ He turns around towing Katara’s hand, she yelps but follows him as they make the second pass. _ A hideaway, perfect for scenting and hanging out and making out--shut up!  _ That last bit he wants to punch himself for; he turns again to make the final pass in front of the wall, this time Katara keeps up with him.  _ A secret place, a safe place, just for the two of us.  _

He stops and Katara nearly slams into him. There’s a sound of scraping and churning coming from the wall. He steps back, pulling Katara with him.

The stones shift and swirl. Sparks play and dance on the rocks as they heave and take a new form. There, in the wall is a simple wooden door that was not there before. Zuko chances a glance at Katara, she’s in awe.

He tugs on her hand, “Come on.”

He leads them forward and turns the handle. The door swings open and they both gasp.

Front and center is a large window, overlooking the sparkling lake. The height of the seventh floor feels mountainous; the majestic view stretches for miles. A window seat that is large enough to be suspiciously like a bed is situated in front of the glass with a plentitude of soft pillows and blankets. Zuko’s heart jumps up and pounds in his eyeballs at the sight.

To their left is a fireplace, with two arm chairs. The blaze is bright, warming the room, and there on a nearby countertop is an assortment of cookware--is that a teapot?

A wall of books lines the right side of the room, interrupted only by another sweet window. The smell of old glue in book spines, molten from the Sun, is one of Zuko’s favorite smells. There, against the smaller window, is a little table with a Pai Sho board set up and waiting for players.

_ This will do just fine.  _ Zuko is inwardly fist pumping. The room is no bigger than an average sized sitting room and somehow it feels like it’s large enough to hold all the mystery and magic in the world.

“Do you like it?” He asks, and he realizes he hasn’t let go of her hand, nor has she let go of his.

“It’s perfect.” Katara whispers, as her eyes flit about the room, drinking in every detail.

She’s smiling, in that deeper happy way that he’s only seen a few other times this term. 

“Thank you.” She breathes and before he realizes what’s happening she flings her arms around his neck and hugs him tight.

He stumbles for a moment but recovers quickly and he smooths his hands on her back and marvels at how she fits so perfectly in his arms. It’s insane how much pride is pumping through his veins, and it’s even more insane that his grin is wider than the school itself, but he doesn’t care.

“You’re welcome.” He whispers in her ear like it’s a secret.

She responds by pressing her face in his neck and making a show of inhaling. He chuckles at her eagerness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone speaks Latin, feel free to translate or look up that phrase! Dun dun duuuuun!
> 
> Also, MY CABBAGES, lol <3


	7. The Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Zuko make good use of their new hideout.
> 
> A fellow student tries to instruct Zuko to learn wand-less magic.
> 
> Appa goes into labor and there's more than one surprise in store that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back again!
> 
> Thank you all for your super kind words, it's so thoughtful and I'm having a blast writing this.
> 
> I'm excited for this chapter because we get to learn more about Sokka!
> 
> We also get to meet Aang, and he is a blast to write. I think it's important to note that I don't hate Aang, I say this because of the way he is written. Zuko finds him annoying at first and I just felt the need to share that I, in fact, do love Aang and the whole gaang <3\. 
> 
> Warnings;  
> -cuddling  
> -sexual tension (nothing that needs to be skipped)  
> -a shameless overuse of the word "twerp" because it makes me laugh, lol <3  
> -I used the name Oogi (even though that name is not in the first Avatar series) I just like it.

She never has to ask him for it, partly because he knows how acute the need is but also because it’s like he can read her.

In charms class, during a particularly boring lecture, Katara is feeling desperate for Zuko’s scent. She is shifting in her seat, unable to get comfortable, when he taps her on the shoulder and extends his wrist to her. He motions with his eyes, reassuring her.

Checking to see that the coast is clear, she lifts his wrist to her nose and inhales deeply. Thankfully their seats are in the back so no one sees that sometimes, once the pair starts to scent a sort of frenzy ensues. Katara has to fight it, they save the weirdness for the privacy of their hideout. For now, she has to be content with burying her nose in his wrist.

They find ways to get their fill of each other’s scent during the day. They meet before meals and sometimes after too. Throughout any given day, they sneak little bits here and there. 

A few days after the hideout is established, Katara is eating lunch. While she is downing her tea, her eyes can’t help but peel through the Slytherin table until they lock on to Zuko’s. Complete sentences pass between them without a word.

“I’ve got to go...study.” She croaks.

Sokka and Suki take no notice, they are neck deep in devouring turkey sandwiches. Katara slides out from her seat smoothly and leaves the hall. Zuko downs his coffee and follows her a moment later.

She walks until the din of the hall fades. She hears footsteps behind her; she knows it’s Zuko. His strides pick up speed and warm fingers wrap around hers as he streaks past pulling her with him. She laughs at his urgency and they barrel down the hall together. They reach the hideout and Zuko playfully swings her hand so that she whips through the air. 

She’s learning that Zuko has a playful side, and it’s one he’s kept hidden from her until recently. It’s warm and easy going, and seeing him smile does something weird to her stomach.

The door appears in the wall, and he pulls her into him so she slams into his chest and then he backs her into the room. She doesn’t know when she started feeling safe with him but it’s like a breath of fresh air and she can’t figure out why.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He grins as he kicks the door shut.

“Shut up.” Katara snorts and buries her face in his neck. Something about their platonic trysts is exhilarating. Especially when he backs her up into the bed. 

She doesn’t know when she became comfortable with Zuko resting his full weight on her either, and she doesn’t care. Neither one makes a big deal that they need to be close or that they can definitely feel friction where their centers meet.

His low hum as he brushes his nose along her neck makes her blood rush through her being. Just for a moment, when she is surrounded by the comforting smell of cinnamon and tea leaves, the world isn’t so scary. The harshness of her reality fades and she is nothing but present, in this moment, feeling relaxed and safe wrapped up in warm arms.

“Can I try something?” His ragged breath is in her ear.

“Sure.” She likes that he lets her card her fingers through his hair. It’s so soft and she can feel the resilient coiled muscles of his neck.

He props himself up on an elbow and collects her wrist with his free hand. “I figure if smelling each other helps so much then this could help too.” Closing his eyes, his tongue makes a pass on her wrist.

Katara gasps; she shivers at the warm wet sandpaper. One wouldn’t think the inside of the wrist is a sensitive body part, but undeniable fire glows hot in her core as a response, and she likes it.

“Holy shit.” Zuko shudders and his grips on her wrist tightens. “You gotta try this.” He holds his wrist up to her.

Her curiosity spikes and she tentatively licks the soft skin. It’s like a magnet but more like a roaring whirlpool drawing her in; instant desire wells up her stomach and her breath skids and falters. 

“Oh my God.” She sighs, trying to bite down her visceral reaction.

“Good, right?” His grin is far too bright--or is it far too dark?

Some intriguing possibilities flash across her mind, but she steals herself, reminding her brain that she is with Jet and she only feels the need to be around Zuko because of the unfortunate--or fortunate--side effects of the spell.

“Z--Zuko, we have to be careful with this.” She’s still catching her breath.

There’s a strange expression on his face that she isn’t used to seeing on men, and by men she means Jet; it looks a lot like respect and a sort of attentive concern.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” He nods reassuringly.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong, It’s just,” she bites her lip, “I think we need some ground rules so that we don’t...arouse each other.” Her face heats and she braces for a rebuff but it doesn’t come.

“I understand.” He says simply.

Guilt is stinging her so she hurries to add, “I think a certain level of arousal is unavoidable but--”

“You don’t have to explain.” He takes one of her hands and squeezes gently, “Tell me what you need.”

Her heart contorts around his kindness. Her mind pumps adjectives through the mill; _safe, good, kind, respectful, and wonderful Zuko._ Her breath stumbles but for a different reason this time. He just waits quietly, watching with warm eyes and a soft smile.

“Well, I think, um…Th--that we shouldn’t use our tongues.” She winces around the word.

“No licking, got it.” He nods in solidarity. “What else?”

“And maybe, no hands under clothing.”

“Noted. Anything else?”

“I think that’s it for now.” She’s still astounded at his reverence and she feels shy.

“If you think of more later, you can let me know.” His warm fingers brush through her hair for a moment.

His gaze travels and lands on the necklace that rests on her throat. Katara inwardly squirms under his thoughtful eyes. 

“What’s this?” His fingers brush it with genuine interest.

“It was my mother’s.” She squeezes it out of habit.

Curiosity glazes his eyes and he props his chin on his hand, tilting his head to the side, indicating for her to continue. 

“She gave it to me when I was a little girl. But when she died I started wearing it every day…” Her voice trails off. Her mind travels far away but Zuko’s voice gently brings her back.

“Hey, why’d you stop?” He asks softly.

“I’m probably boring you.” She looks away from his eyes.

“No. please keep going. I don’t know very much about you.”

She blushes, but somehow she isn’t afraid to open up to him. So she continues, a little nervous at first but gradually shedding her fear. She explains that her mother was a muggle and she died in a car accident when Katara was nine.

Zuko doesn’t interrupt, he just listens attentively, not saying anything until she’s done talking. He asks follow up questions, showing interest in her life. It feels good to talk, to open up. Somewhere deep inside Katara, an invisible scale tips slightly, weighted by kind words and warm touch and sweet smell. 

Time slips away and when they realize the sun has dipped lower, they scramble off the bed and barrel out the door to their next class. 

* * *

That evening, the fire crackles and pops, it’s cozy inside the Room of Requirement. Zuko and Katara have taken to studying in the evenings after dinner. With the arm chairs scooted together, they have easy access to grab the other’s wrist and inhale whenever they need.

Once, Zuko held Katara’s wrist to his nose for a full fifteen minutes while he read a particularly confusing passage in _Herbology: The Cycle of Magical Fungi._

She fought herself in order not to giggle and at length he released her hand, claiming it helped him focus and he thanked her. She was crimson when he finally let go but she didn’t care.

He likes how she blushed so after another ten minutes he takes her wrist again and rubs his nose on it. He swears he feels her fingers brush his cheek.

At around seven thirty Katara gasps. “We have to go!”

“What! Why?” He startles.

“We are supposed to meet Aang! wand-less magic lessons, remember?”

After their time in the hospital, Katara reached out to Aang who magnanimously agreed to instruct them. They scramble to gather their things and fly out the door.

In the hallway, Zuko can’t help but whine. “Do I have to? I don’t wanna!”

“Yes you do!” She retorts, towing him by the hand. “wand-less magic is how I beat you in the last duel, remember? And we have another bracket coming up and I intend to beat you again, after we get you up to speed.” She snorts.

“Ugh, but Aang is so--”

“Are you trying to make it easy for me to beat you when we duel?” She snaps.

“Hell, no!”

“Then get it together and show some respect to Aang.” She quips and then softens, “For me, please.”

“Fine.” He groans as they halt in front of an empty classroom.

Katara raps on the door.

“Enter! My children!” A melodious answer resounds through the door.

“You see?” Zuko rounds on Katara, “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

She ignores him and pushes the door open.

Incense hits them in the nostrils with a force greater than the reducto spell. Zuko coughs once and they step inside a candle lit classroom. The desks are pushed aside and colorful floor cushions are in a circle.

A figure emerges from the fog. A short bald boy, with a foolish grin and Gryffindor robes bows to them.

“Do you like incense? Too much? I bought it at Hogsmeade last week, the girl--super cute by the way--said it was frankincense…” He rattles on for another minute.

Zuko’s nostrils flare and he fixes Katara with a hard stare as if to say _why are you doing this to me?_

She glares right back but they are interrupted by Aang ushering them to take a seat on the cushions facing each other.

Aang sighs a long loud breath as he plops down on his cushion. “So! We will start with the basics. Wand-less magic is about unblocking your Qi.” He places a fist size rock in front of each of them. 

He blabbers for a full five minutes about the history of Qi. Zuko feels antsy and he catches Katara’s eyes just to roll his own dramatically. She returns a deadpan stare and sticks her tongue out.

“Katara already knows the basics, but since this is your first lesson with me, we will start from the beginning.” Aang sees the two staring each other down and he loudly clears his throat.

They startle and Aang purses his lips. “Observe.” 

He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. The rocks rise slowly and swirl together, orbiting each other a few feet off the ground. Then slowly, they lightly settle with a soft thud on the stone floor.

“How did you do that?” Despite being miffed that a fourteen year old bald kid can do wand-less shit and he can’t, Zuko is very impressed at the feat.

“Find what is blocking your Qi, and remove it.” Aang says primly. “Now you try, center yourself and breathe deeply.”

Closing his eyes, he draws air in and out of his lungs. He squeezes his stomach expecting a veil to be lifted from his mind and a feeling to take him over like the deepest note on a piano. _Come on, rock, move!_ He squeezes harder. _I am one with the rock and the rock is with me!_ He lets out the breath he’s been holding and opens his eyes. His stone is unmoved but Katara’s is floating peacefully in the air.

He grunts and grips his hair. The words of his father drifting to the forefront of his mind, _Azula was born lucky, you were lucky to be born._ Zuko’s face falls in his hands. Failure is a feeling he loathes and his heart burns with agony at the memory of his father’s scorn.

Soft cool fingers gently tug one of his hands away from his face. “Hey, it’s okay.” The commanding nature of her voice is deflated and Katara is gentle. “I didn’t get it on my first try either.”

Katara settles next to him and she smiles reassuringly. “If it helps, focus on my scent.”

Aang has been sitting quietly up to this point but now his eyes flick between them suspiciously. “Can we get a move on please? We don’t have all night.”

“Listen, you little twerp.” Zuko starts but a strong hand grips his shoulder.

“Zuko.” Katara’s tone is not unlike Uncle’s when he is reprimanding him.

Zuko settles, mumbling, and Katara squeezes his hand. “Ready?”

He nods and their eyes drift shut. She’s sitting close enough where her scent can be detected above the fowl incense. He lets his mind drift, and he just breathes in the pleasant peaceful smell of the girl next to him.

The world falls away and it’s quiet, and a little unsettling but he isn’t scared. _Katara._ Her name drifts into his mind. Color, light, cool and calm all come seeping in through his corners at the summoning of her name. 

He peels an eye open, his rock is still unmoved. Disappointment rushes through him again, but this time the gentle presence of Katara keeps him steady. 

Quietly wondering what could be blocking his Qi, he turns to see Katara’s rock floating effortlessly in front of her still frame. She looks so peaceful and she glows in the light of the candles. He isn’t jealous of her power, just in awe.

Suddenly a loud whooshing breaks apart the moment. Katara’s eyes snap open and her rock thuds on the floor. They whip around to see a patronus hovering outside the window. A wispy silver owl speaks in an ethereal voice.

“ _Make haste, Appa is giving birth_.”

“Uncle’s patronus!” Zuko cries.

* * *

They race down to Iroh’s classroom, he’s already buzzing around gathering supplies. Between the three of them, and Aang--who insists on coming, much to Zuko’s dismay--they levitate the six cauldrons of soothing potion and hurry to the stables.

Sokka and Professor Piandao are already there, keeping Appa calm. Both men are wearing aprons with their hair in ponytails and their sleeves rolled up.

“This is it! Sokka is so excited he’s practically vibrating out of his skin. “Put the cauldron’s there--Oh I can’t believe this is happening!” Sokka has a way with animals, part of why he wans to become a dragon trainer. Professor Piandao has been letting Sokka be his assistant. Emphasis on the word _letting_ because Sokka’s enthusiasm can not be contained.

The barn is lit with warm orbs of light hovering far above. Appa is lying on her side in her roomy stall on a soft bed of hay. Her labored breathing rumbles as she prepares to start pushing. The barn is musty but there is a special energy in the air, and the anticipation of new life is palpable.

Sokka is giving orders, and Professor Piandao is smiling, shaking his head fondly. He’s proud of his student for excelling. 

“Piandao and Iroh, head to the rear, be ready to catch the calves. Zuko and Katara stand by with these blankets to wipe them clean.” Sokka motions to a pile of soft linen near Appa’s legs. “I’m gonna stay by Appa’s face to walk her through her breathing.”

“What do I do?” Aang squeaks eagerly.

“Stay out of the way.” Sokka shrugs.

Zuko smirks as he steers Katara to their station, he doesn’t know Sokka personally but he makes a mental note that he likes the way he thinks.

Sokka turns to Appa, resting his hands in her fur and looking into one of her large eyes. “Listen, Appa, you’re a big girl, you can do this.”

She let’s a roar rip through her as she starts pushing and heaving. Sokka’s voice steadies her, it guides her through each breath and it’s a wonder to see.

Zuko’s never been present for a birth of any kind and there’s all sorts of emotions rattling around in his chest. Listening to Appa wail is spiking his anxiety and his breathing. He doesn’t realize that he’s grabbed hold of Katara’s hand. With his eyes locked on the heaving massive animal, he doesn’t notice Katara looks up at him wonderingly and then smiles. She laces their fingers together and he subconsciously plants a firm hand on her waist and pulls her against him so he’s hugging her from behind. He feels better with his face pressed in her air, and thankfully people are too preoccupied to see.

“The first calf is crowning!” Piandao cries.

Iroh and Piandao catch the first baby Sky bison as it emerges. They pass the slippery wet infant to Zuko and Katara who wipe him down and bundle him up. The fur is matted and he’s the size of a dog but adorable to say the least. 

Everyone is wiping sweat from their brows and their clothes are staining with Appa’s amniotic fluid but no one cares. There’s smiles and tears as they work together and five more calves emerge before it’s done.

It’s a full three hours of labor and Zuko has his arms full of Sky Bison and can’t remember ever being this happy or this in awe of anything. Everyone is sitting crossed legged holding a bundle wiping their eyes and there’s a quiet peace descending. Even Aang gets to hold one and the infant is very responsive to his gentle voice.

 _The little twerp isn’t so bad._ Zuko thinks to himself.

He looks up to see Katara cradling a fuzzy heap, while she coos and hums softly. There’s a little yawn as the bison stretches and settles into her arms. Zuko’s breath catches and something shifts inside him. A lock of hair is sticking to her sweaty brow; he scoops it away. Her robes are stained but she’s glowing with something pure and radiant and his eyes mist at the sight.

“What would you name yours?” Her eyes meet his gaze and she smiles playfully.

“Twerp.” He smirks and it earns him a glorious laugh from Katara. The bison in his lap smacks his lips and wraps a leg around his arm. Zuko’s heart is a puddle on the floor.

“You’d name your Sky Bison after me?” Aang’s eyes are full of moisture and his lips quiver with a hopeful smile.

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh my fucking God.” He whispers under his breath, but Katara can hear and snorts down her giggles.

There’s roaring coming from a stall further down. Appa’s mate has been anxious and worried. The door rattles with defiance. Sokka ignored the ruckus during the birthing, but Zuko’s heart wrenches now, and he gets an idea.

“Sokka?”

“Yeah?” He looks up from his bundle.

“I think we should let Appa’s mate be with her, his scent can soothe her.” Zuko swallows, he worries he’s overstepped his bounds by making a suggestion to the expert.

Sokka pauses, eyebrows coming together as he tilts his head in concentration. “Of course!” He cries with glee. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Sokka shifts the infant off of his lap and leaps up to release Oogi from his stall, who lumbers over to Appa. He lies down next to her and nuzzles her. She hums and her breathing evens.

Zuko feels a gentle hand on his elbow. His eyes follow the curve of a beautiful arm up to find Katara’s gaze. Her eyes are bright and she smiles knowingly, nodding slightly. They exchange a sentiment with their eyes. It’s a sweet moment because they know something that no one else does. Zuko reaches for her hand and takes it gently.

“Uh, guys?” Sokka’s voice breaks up the moment. “What’s wrong with Aang?”

Aang is rigid and his eyes are rolling back into his head. He’s shaking as if a seizure grips him. Sokka pulls the calve out of Aang’s arms and backs up.

“Aang.” Iroh comes to his side and places a hand on his shoulder. 

Everyone is frozen, uncertain of what to do. Zuko is three seconds from bolting to the hospital wing to fetch Madame Yin when Aang speaks.

“ _It shall come to pass_ ,” his voice is harsh and hive-like, a far cry different from the squealing bald boy, “ _that those born not unto magic shall be made low, and desolation will horrify the multitudes. Of the day and the hour knoweth no man, but the Duobus Capitibus Draconis of singular power both separate and together will make the ultimate sacrifice to be the downfall of the Firelord._ ”

Aang coughs and his eyes cease rolling. He blinks and smacks his lips, as if he has no idea what just happened. He frowns at the shock on the faces of his companions. “What? Do I have something on my face?” He panic wipes his mouth.

Zuko’s stomach is plummeting through the floor. _Firelord._ He happens to know someone who is often referred to in those terms, someone who is considered to be a hero by most.

Iroh whips around and from across the stall he exchanges a grave look with Piandao. Zuko catches the glance and he turns to see Katara shaking. An eerie feeling is slinking into his chest, pushing out the happy glow that once surrounded the group. He tightens the grip on her hand and she squeezes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-discovered the word "twerp" and I just had to used it, lololol <3
> 
> The prophecy! AAAAAHHHH!
> 
> Bonus points if you can spot the Star Wars reference! <3


	8. Quiet Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has an unsettling dream.
> 
> Someone takes notice of the changes in Katara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another chapter of fluff and goodness! These two goons are getting a little closer!
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my friend [duchessofthemoonbase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofthemoonbase), thank you for helping me come up with really cool latin words to use for a spell in this chapter <3 HUGS
> 
> No warnings for this chapter! Just some character development, plot, pranks, fluff, and cuddles. *wink*

“ _My little turtle duck_ , _so sweet and so strong; Many things we will learn in our little song_.” The words curl around his heart and warm it, a hint of a melody with it.

Zuko turns over in his bed, the restless dream pulls him deeper. His mother’s voice, so warm, so real, floats through his subconscious; it peels back layers of grief and for a moment her face hovers before him and then vanishes.

With a gasp, he sits bolt upright. He shivers in cold sweat, hugging himself. After a terrible moment, the room rights itself and he sinks back into his pillow.

The uneasy feeling hasn’t left him since Aang delivered the prophecy. His sleep has been disturbed the last few nights. Normally, Zuko welcomes dreams of his mother but tonight her words felt like a warning.

Her song was sweet, if only he could remember all the lyrics; she used to sing it for him.

Rising from bed he walks to stand in front the glowing embers, the warmth soothes him. Pale moonlight illuminates his dorm, his friends are asleep.

He scrubs his eyes to adjust them and reaches for an item on the mantel; a wooden turtle duck, a toy from his childhood, from his mother. Hugging it to his chest he hums all the notes that his memory can muster, mumbling a word here and there. It’s no bigger than an apple but it’s somehow more precious than a room full of treasure. Zuko gives it a shake, it even rattles, he smiles and hugs it once more, letting the comforting sound fill him.

* * *

The golden glow of September has blended into a spectacular orange Autumn. A lively mantle of reds and yellows surround the castle and the air has a crisp quality to it that stings the lungs in a pleasing way.

It’s been nearly three weeks since the fateful spell brought strange symptoms upon Katara and Zuko, and yet the need for scenting has only faded slightly. 

On a bright October afternoon Katara and Zuko walk to Professor Iroh’s office for their routine detention. He usually has them brew potions that are needed around the castle; then they wash all the flasks and cauldrons by hand, without magic--it builds character, according to Iroh.

“Today we will be brewing Burn-Healing paste.” Iroh exclaims, rubbing his hands together.

Katara squeals in delight. Zuko has come to enjoy being the helper, watching the other two geek out over ingredients.

Katara buzzes around the room throwing on an apron and rolling up her sleeves. Zuko chuckles as she presses ingredients into his hands. She is truly in her element, Zuko thinks, and this isn’t even a real detention at all. _Look how happy she is._

They gather round a table, chopping herbs and talking lively.

“Time to add the Wormwood leaves.” Iroh announces gleefully.

“Wait!” Katara holds up her hand, she has that wild look in her eye that she only gets when she enters genius mode. “We have to wait for the water to be boiling, it will draw out the healing properties better and it will make pretty sparks too!” She bounces.

“Ah yes! How could I forget!” Iroh laughs.

Katara and Iroh start in on an excited babble of all the properties of wormwood trees. They talk over one another, laughing and gesturing. Zuko’s face softens into a quiet smile; He won’t admit it but he knows she’s a prodigy at this stuff and he’s proud of her for it. He wonders to himself, in a secret chamber of his heart, what the reason is for her increase in happiness. She’s had more color in her cheeks lately and a certain light behind her eyes that wasn’t there before. _Could it be--_

“Oh professor! We should add some lavender, it will smell so lovely don’t you think?” Katara’s eyes are wide with excitement.

“Excellent idea, I’ll be right back!” Iroh excuses himself and lumbers out the door to his supply room.

“Zuko?” Katara turns to him with a curious look in her eyes.

“Yeah?” He pauses with a ginger root in his hand.

“Do you think...um...the Burn-Healing paste could…” She gestures to his scar. 

She looks sheepish and he knows what she’s asking. “Naw, Uncle and I tried it already, a few years back.” 

She suddenly looks down, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve--” 

“No, no, it’s ok,” he smiles warmly, “I appreciate the thought.” 

She lightens and he extends his wrist for her to smell. She gives a grateful sigh as she takes in his scent and then offers him her wrist too. “How did it happen?”

Zuko feels her fingers brush near his eye, the damaged one. Her gaze is thoughtful and serious. He takes a long drag with his nose from her wrist and savors the feeling of her hand on his cheek.

“I’ll tell you, but not here--when we’re alone.” 

She nods in understanding and he likes that her hand stays on his face. He finds himself wishing the nerves weren’t damaged so he could feel every sensation of her fingers on his skin. He inhales at her wrist again and brushes his thumb over her soft skin there. Their eyes meet and they exchange a fond gaze. He’s grown to like the quiet moments together. His eyes drift to the gentle swell of her lips, so soft and full. He must be imagining it, but her gaze flicks between his mouth and his eyes.

“Found it!” Iroh bustles in and the pair hurry to step apart and look busy.

* * *

The need for scenting has only subsided slightly, though it’s been three weeks. Zuko doesn’t mind but Potions is a particularly difficult class to get through, given the fact he doesn’t get to sit near Katara. 

On a sunny Wednesday afternoon, Zuko is having a difficult time focusing on his uncle’s instructions for how to create a poisonous repellent for wasps. All Zuko can think about is repelling away everything in the room, far away, except for Katara who smells insanely good right now. He’s barely getting wisps of her scent from his seat in the corner. It also happens that Zuko is feeling especially mischievous. 

He quickly waves his wand over one of the hot peppers from the ingredients bowl. Small sparks, unseen by the room, hover and absorb into the red skin of the vegetable. Zuko grins, Katara won’t know that he enchanted it to taste like strawberries. 

As the class is working quietly, he makes his way over to her table.

“Hey.” He comes up beside her, and as he does so, he undoes the top button of his shirt.

“Hi--eee.” Her eyes widen because his scent just hit her. 

Zuko innocently tugs at his collar and his eyebrows go up, “Something wrong?” he knowingly unbuttons the next button.

Katara shudders and grips the table for support. This makes Zuko’s insides wild because he knows the effect his scent has on her. A grin betrays him at the corner of his mouth and it does not go unnoticed. Katara’s nostrils flare and she delivers a glare that could kill. 

He continues, unphased, “I just came over here to challenge you to eat one of these?” He feigns virtue as he holds up the curved pepper. “I bet you can’t do it without flinching.”

“Bet you I can.” She blurts.

Good. He was counting on her competitive side to flare up.

“I’ll go first.” He raises the pepper to his lips, making a show of moving slowly.

There’s a muffled snap as he tugs the pepper free of the stem and he chews leisurely, his eyes never leaving hers. He licks his thumb, a bold move that earns him a visual of red rushing to Katara’s cheeks.

Her reaction somehow emboldens him further and he gets an idea, it’s a special kind of crazy but then again, everything about their situation is insane. He swallows the pepper, making note that he did well to magic away the hot piercing flavor, then he lifts the stem to his mouth and lets his tongue pull it in. He rotates it in his mouth, making sure she’s watching him. Slowly, he pulls the wet stem from his lips to reveal that it is tied in a knot. He’s oddly quiet, and his gaze never leaves her as he plops the knot into her smoking cauldron. 

It hisses and he raises an eyebrow, “Your turn.”

A surge of defiance swells up her frame and she grabs a hot pepper from her table. She tears it off the stem with her teeth. Zuko makes a strangled sound in his throat at the sight, and it’s his turn to flush cherry red. He knows she doesn’t like spicy food but her conviction is tossing his hormones off the charts. She chews venomously, keeping eye contact. Sure enough, her brow starts sweating and beads of moisture give away the flaming discomfort inside her mouth. After a moment, the heat becomes unbearable and she starts coughing, doubling over.

“Uncle!” Zuko calls across the classroom, the din of the room pauses, “Katara is having a reaction to one of the ingredients, I’m taking her to the hospital wing!” 

“Go! Quickly!” Uncle gestures, without questioning.

Zuko sweeps his arm around Katara and guides her from the room. Once they’re in the hallway he steers her to a closet, closing the door behind him, he ignites his wand.

She’s still coughing, “What the--hell was--that?” she rasps.

He quickly rummages through some nearby shelves and grabs a cup, waving his wand he fills it with what looks like milk, “Here, this will help.”

She gulps, spilling some on her robes, “Thank you,” she sighs, as she catches her breath wiping her mouth with the back of hand, “mind explaining to me what just happened?” her tone is reproachful. 

“How else was I supposed to get you out of there?” He shrugs, matter-of-factly.

The look he gets is one of sheer disgust and awe. Then slowly, Katara’s expression changes and a smirk peels at the corner of her mouth. She nods in understanding, and then holds up her hand for him to stop before he takes her in his arms.

“I like the way you think, but did you really need to damage my taste buds in the process?” She purses her lips, eyeing him.

“No hot peppers next time, got it,” he grins, “I _did_ win that little contest though.”

She chucks the cup and holds her arms out for him. “You wish. C’mere.”

He wraps her up neatly and backs her into the wall. He presses his face into her neck and sighs contently, letting the sweet smell of honeysuckle and amber fill up his lungs and soothing every aching cell in his body. 

She lets him rub his nose on her neck and he likes the way she’s warm and soft in his arms and the way her robes pool around his hands as he holds her to him.

Her head rests sweetly on his shoulder and he doesn’t hide his shivers when her nose brushes his neck. Just for a moment, the world is perfect. Somehow when they’re here, sharing these quiet moments, something clicks into place and all the weight scatters from his shoulders.

But he steals himself, reminding his brain that she is with Jet. 

“Do I smell strawberries?” She raises her head to look at him. 

“Nope.” His face returns to her neck.

“I know what I smell.”

He doesn’t answer, he just squeezes her tighter.

“Zuko, you answer me right now!” 

“No.” He smiles into her neck.

A moment passes and he feels her hackles start to rise. 

“You tricked me didn’t you?” She says matter-of-factly.

He stays quiet and then he feels her little fingers dig into his side. A shriek of mirth rips through him and he seeks revenge by blowing a raspberry into her neck. Her following squeal is a delight to his ears and he loves how comfortable they’ve become with each other.

* * *

Wednesday nights is dueling practice. A good portion of the school turns up; it’s a popular extracurricular, and one that Zuko is stupidly proud of, being the founder and all. Dueling club is open to any students ages fourteen and up.

After dinner, all the tables are pulled aside and the fun begins. Each week, Zuko picks a spell for the group to practice, then everyone breaks into pairs. Tonight’s charm is _Pigmentum Displodo,_ a distraction spell.

The hall is filled with cries of glee; the spell is a beautiful one. Beside Katara, Toph is blasting the wall and laughing wickedly.

“I can feel the sparks hit the stone!” she cries, “this is the best spell ever!”

Except it’s not. Try though she may, Katara can’t make her wand erupt in the same way. A few times stifled sparks flew out the end but nothing compares to the showers of color that are cascading around her from her neighbors.

Her blood boils as she flourishes her wand, again and again, coming up with nothing. 

Zuko’s eyes watch her struggle. From his position, he sees that she’s red and flustered; he doesn’t like that, doesn’t want her to feel like she can’t do something. Normally, he would ignore Katara, eager to avoid giving her an edge during their duels. However, in light of recent circumstances, his opinion of her has shifted, and more than he cares to admit.

He resolves to help, but he needs to finish instructing Ty Lee first. He demonstrates the hand motions for her and she follows it easily. While she’s working, he looks over his shoulder, a group of Katara’s friends have gathered around her to check up on her. She waves them off, claiming that she can’t do the spell because her fingers are cold. She flaps a hand at them saying that she’ll just have to find a pair of fingerless gloves now that the castle is becoming more drafty in the October air.

Zuko makes a mental note and as soon as Ty Lee has a handle on the spell, his feet are moving before he can stop himself.

Katara is inwardly cursing herself, growing more frustrated with every second when a warm hand grabs her wrist.

“You’re flourishing too much.” 

She follows the hand to see Zuko watching with thoughtful eyes.

“I am not.” She’s ruffled and she tries to pull her wrist away.

He doesn’t let go, “Do you like it?”

“Like what?” She croaks.

“Your wand.” He gestures with his head slightly.

“Yes, very much.” That’s a weird question.

“Hm,” he hums with a slight smile and adjusts her fingers on the grip, “there, that’s better.” He nods at his handy work and then without warning he plants a hand on her waist and draws her to him so her back is pressed to his chest.

She gasps, people are watching and they’re usually careful about this kind of thing, but his warmth and his smell are so inviting that she doesn’t fight him. She hears him swallow; his voice is in her ear, “Do you trust me?”

“Not usually,” Her voice is a wisp.

His laugh is dark, “Let’s try it together.”

She shivers as his breath washes over her but she steals herself. She nods and he slowly makes the motion with his hand over hers. 

“Pigmentum Displodo.” They say it together.

The force of the spell thrusts them back. Great colorful streaks explode from the end of the wand. The glittering peels of light reach all the way to the enchanted ceiling, the power of their spell dwarfs all others. All motion stops and hundreds of eyes look up to see the enthralling dance of color.

A sweet gasp fills Katara’s lungs and she can barely peel her eyes away but she feels Zuko’s gaze on her. She turns to see him with an unreadable look that makes his eyes crinkle and makes her stomach flutter. She really shouldn’t be staring at the bow of his mouth. His fingers press into her side a little more. Cheers erupt and it’s enough to startle the pair apart.

“Th-thank you.” She stammers, feeling the need to study the stone floor.

His hand covers the back of his neck and he looks like he’s on the threshold of saying something. “I--uh--yeah.” He gestures with his thumb to a point beyond his shoulder and turns away. The hall returns to equilibrium and with more chatter this time.

Toph’s eyes--although blind--are boring a hole in the back of Katara’s neck. 

“What the hell just happened?” Toph is at her shoulder.

“I was having trouble, so Zuko helped me do the spell.” Katara says innocently.

“Oh I know that part,” Toph smirks, “but what _else_ just happened?” she drops her voice to a whisper.

“Nothing!” Katara tries to stand on her tiptoes to make it hard for Toph to read her vibrations in the floor.

Toph grips her robes and yanks her back to earth. “Nothing my ass!” she hisses, “My dorm. Tonight. Girl talk!”

Across the hall, Jet’s eyes narrow and he turns for the door and leaves.

* * *

“Please, Suki, come with me, Toph is gonna cut my head off!” Katara pleads as she stripes from her robes and haphazardly throws on her pajamas.

“I’d really rather just stay here and be broody about your brother for a few hours.” Suki replies lugubriously from her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Suki’s been sulking since Appa gave birth to the calves; apparently Sokka was supposed to tell her so she could come too.

“Look, Sokka is really forgetful and he has a lot on his plate with the internship coming up, so I’m sure he didn’t mean to exclude you. I could talk to him for you.” She says as she grabs Zuko’s hoodie and throws it over her t-shirt, she sighs at the smell. He’s been giving her a different hoodie every few days so his scent is fresh for her.

“NO! That would give me away, are you insane?” Suki throws her hands up.

“You should just tell him Suki, I know he likes you too!” 

“Ugh! Okay I change my mind, I’m coming with you to see Toph, especially if gets you off my back about Sokka!” She slumps off the bed to grab her pajamas.

* * *

They knock softly on Toph’s door.

“Come in!”

She magics the door open and gestures them inside. Toph has a whole wing to herself. The other fifth year girls refuse to room with her on account of her blunt honesty, loud snoring and a laundry list of traits that make Toph both a wonderful and terrifying human being. The other fifth years all doubled up in the wing across the hall, leaving her with a ton of space and she doesn’t mind one bit.

“Sit.” She gestures to one of the beds.

Katara and Suki sit like grumpy school girls in the headmasters office, waiting to be reprimanded for an offense.

Toph paces back and forth in front of them, wearing a fluffy green rob and her hair is down. It’s longer than appears when it’s up and it flows down her back in a way that commands respect.

“I’m confused, I felt some _interesting_ vibrations in the floor this evening at practice. What’s going on with you and Zuko?” she halts in front of Katara and folds her arms.

“Nothing!”

“Lies.” Toph returns to pacing.

Katara picks her feet up from the floor and sits on them crossed legged, so Toph can’t read her.

“Not too long ago you guys hated each other and now,” she pauses, stroking an invisible beard, “It’s like you _get along_.”

“I noticed that too!” Suki pipes in.

“Shut up, Suki! Court is in sesion!” Toph flips a hand at Suki, and then turns back to Katara, “you’re young, attractive, you’ve got tension, history, plus, the _real_ shit, _shared trauma.”_

“What?” Katara demands.

“You do know what happened to his Mom, don’t you?” Toph raises an eyebrow.

“Well, no.” Katara’s mind reels; _Could Zuko have a similar past to me?_

“It’s a curse to see so clearly!” Toph sighs, shaking her head as she sits across from the defendants. “Here’s the deal, watergirl,” she narrows her eyes and Katara shrinks back a little. “Your appetite is bigger, you smile more, you’re less stressed, your body is regulating again--”

Completely true, Katara’s menstrual cycle had been absent during the past few months and it recently came back. She was craving chocolate and Zuko brought eight different varieties to their hideout and they shared them while she rested against his warm chest--she slams the door on that thought.

“--and you’re not nearly as anxious,” Toph continues, “you could keep going along, pretending that your heart belongs to...name?” she snaps her fingers at Suki a few times, “name?” louder this time.

“...Jet?” Suki whimpers.

Katara glares at her, as if to say _who’s side are you on?_ Suki shrugs in exasperation.

“ _Jet.”_ Toph spits the name. “You like Jet, Katara, I know you do.”

“Yes! I do!” Katara throws her hands in the air.

“But you don’t _love_ Jet.” Toph waves her wand and the fireplace roars to life.

“What? I--I--we--I--mean--I do! Her words suddenly abandon ship and she grasps at them but they slip through the cracks faster.

“There it is, ladies and germs; The _second_ lie of the evening.” Toph smiles and flicks her wand again, a teapot glides to hover over the flames.

Katara realizes her feet were on the ground again, she pulls them in defensively.

“You don’t know a thing!” Katara snaps, “and how dare you assume you know anything about my situation!”

Toph stands, raising her hands defensively, slowly moving toward the fireplace. “I haven’t seen you this healthy since last winter,” she turns her back and she fiddles with loading tea cups on a tray, “or this happy, for that matter.” The tone in her voice changes to something more soft.

Healthy? Happy? She has felt more at ease, more content and less on edge. She couldn’t seem to figure out why, and now that Toph is reading her like a book she’s questioning everything.

“Katara,” Suki turns to her, resting a comforting hand on her elbow, “I have to agree with her. You do seem happier. I don’t need to know why, but whatever you’re doing. Keep doing it.” She miles reassuringly.

A flood of emotion wells up in her chest at the sight of her friend encouraging her. She has been happier lately, it’s true, and her friends are only trying to help. Water draws up from a deep place in her heart and tears paint her cheeks in a flood of emotion. Toph brings the tray over and when they each have a cup of warm soothing liquid, Katara starts to shake. Sobs climb up her throat. Suki relieves her of her cup and then throws her arms around her, followed by Toph. The three girls sway together.

* * *

The next morning Katara is sipping her tea, racking her brain for ways to break the awkward silence between Sokka and Suki. They’re still a bit icy to each other since Sokka forgot to include her at the birth of Appa’s calves.

She is saved by a loud _thwap_ as the mail arrives. A brown paper package lands in front of her. She squeals in delight, as she checks the note, it’s from YWO.

Since YWO gave her the new wand, Katara has received a number of things from her anonymous friend; new ink to go with her quill, a bag of treats for her owl Momo, and a new book of potions that she’s been drooling over for months since she first saw it at Hogsmeade.

Hastily, she unties the string and the paper peels away to reveal a pair of fingerless gloves. She gasps at the soft cable knit. The color is deep wine red to match the Gryffindor colors and they fit perfectly when she tries them on.

Her curiosity grows and she’s starting to feel a deep need to learn the identity of her secret helper. She eagerly shows off her new treasures to Sokka and Suki, who both show their approval and then resume glaring at each other.

Across the hall, Zuko smiles into his breakfast sandwich. He quickly looks away as Katara’s eyes peel through the hall, searching for the generous culprit. After a solid ten minutes, when he’s sure she’s returned her focus to her breakfast. He locks his eyes on her until she looks up. They exchange words without a sound and then he gets up and leaves the hall, heading in the direction of their hideout.

Katara follows a moment later, her footsteps echo behind him and he smiles as he starts to run. She shrieks and laughs as she tries to catch up. They always race to the hideout.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jet, what are you doing? I saw you leave the hall, looking all sour! lol
> 
> Toph is a good friend and a badass! I love her!
> 
> Sokka and Suki have some things to work out, more on that later! <3
> 
> Bonus points if you can spot the reference to Stranger Things <3


	9. Winter Hats and Lava Cakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko opens up about his Mother to Katara and the two draw a little closer.
> 
> A trip to Hogsmeade sets more than one wheel in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We're back with another chapter!
> 
> I'm super excited for this one! there is fun, fluff, Hogsmeade, lots of plot, and we get to learn more about Zuko's mother! (I may have cried while writing)
> 
> Warning:  
> There is implied physical abuse in this chapter. It is inferred that Jet is the one who inflicts the abuse. I'm keeping it vague so as not to traumatize anyone. But when the scene comes, you will have a good idea of what happened based on how things are implied.
> 
> If you need to skip, it starts with "His fingers brush her elbow and then he pauses." and ends with the paragraph break.
> 
> I just wanna reiterate that I don't hate Jet in real life, but I needed a character to fill this role in my story and it just worked in my brain.
> 
> If this chapter makes anyone uncomfortable, but you still want to know the plot points that it contains, feel free to skip reading this chapter all together and message me on tumblr for a summary of important items! I am happy to help!
> 
> Just incase I forgot to mention:  
> This story happens on the Earth in the ATLA universe, but in modern day. Some of the places have HP names and some of them have real-world names, such as “Romania” for example!

The suds are piling high at the sink in Iroh’s classroom. Katara and Zuko scrub flasks, vials and anything that Iroh deems worthy of cleansing. They could magic away the residue but Iroh insists that manual labor is important; it builds character.

He’s not wrong, there is a strange sense of pride that Katara feels when she works with her hands.

She finds peace in the quiet, the repetitive motion of scrubbing and drying is soothing, and it allows for time to talk with Zuko.

“Can I ask you something?” she says as she fiddles with the towel in her hands.

“Sure,” he hands her a glistening mason jar to dry.

“What happened to your mother?” She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t been curious since her little chat with Toph.

His hands are still under the water and his eyes drift far away, “She died when I was young.”

Her heart twists, she sees the familiar agony, dulled by time, in his eyes. A quiet moment passes, neither one willing to disturb the other in their thoughts.

“I--I’m sorry,” Katara bites her lip, wondering if she overstepped her bounds, “you don’t have to tell me, I didn’t mean to--”

“No, it’s ok, I want to tell you,” his eyes are heavy but his mouth is soft as it curls into a gentle smile. With a sudsy hand, he reaches forward and brushes the pendant that rests on her throat, “you remind me of her.”

Her breath evacuates her lungs, she definitely felt a wet finger tip brush her clavicle. “Yeah?” 

“She had a wonder about her,” his hands return to the sink and he slowly washes a flask, turning over in his hands, for something to do, “always seeking adventure, trying new things, and annoying as hell when her competitive side came out, just like you.” He smirks and it earns him an elbow in the ribs from Katara.

“ _Hey!”_ She feigns defensiveness.

He smiles fondly and continues, “She had a generous spirit too.” He pauses to hand Katara the flask and she takes it, listening with a quiet awe, her lips slightly parted.

“Every Winter, she would make a ton of hot chocolate and cookies,” Zuko takes another flask and begins washing, “and then on Christmas Eve she would drive around the streets of Caldera and hand out the food to homeless muggles.”

A silent admiration fills Katara as Zuko paints a picture; A dark haired woman with eyes like glimmering topaz, smiling brightly as she presses treats into the hands of beggars. She brought warmth and light wherever she went, with infants strapped to her back and her husband by her side.

“Dad used to help her, he loved it, until…” his voice trails off and his motion slows to a stop.

Katara’s heart twists again, “You don’t have to tell me.” She rests a hand on Zuko’s elbow and wet fingers cover hers for a moment while he finds his strength.

“She got sick,” he meets her eyes and his voice cracks, “it was a fever, a strange illness, she caught it one Christmas.” His hands return to washing but slower this time. “Dad was frantic, calling every witch and wizard with healing powers. Nothing helped. He blamed the muggles, saying the homeless spread something to her.”

A single tear paints his cheek and Katara chases it with her thumb. He leans into her hand and she lets him steady himself by smelling her wrist for a moment.

“Afterward, he ran for office and was elected to be the Minister for Magic. He was never the same, and his opinions of muggles changed too.” He closes his eyes and sighs.

“How old were you?” she asks, and as she does so she realizes she hasn’t removed her hand from his cheek but he doesn’t seem to mind because his hand still holds her wrist.

“I was nine.”

“I’m so sorry, Zuko.” She can’t help herself when she brushes her thumb along his cheek. The corners of his mouth lift at the touch and his hand comes to cover hers.

They regard each other quietly, sharing grief but also strength. It’s then, a light bulb flashes across Katara’s brain, “I was nine too, when I lost my Mom.”

His eye brows lift and he hums thoughtfully. It’s oddly comforting to know that he lost his mom when he was the same age. She can’t describe the feeling, but it’s heartening to share a similar burden. In a strange way and a special way, they understand one another. This new information strengthens something unnamed within her, something that she is still too afraid to call to light.

* * *

Zuko is waiting for Katara, sitting on the comfy window seat of their hideout. The Sun is high, scattering sparkles on the lake. Being nestled in the Great Mountains of the Earth Kingdom, the Castle has spectacular views. 

Golden sun rays warm him and he welcomes the soothing balm. Last night he remembered more of the lyrics to his mother’s song, the words soothed him but frightened him also, as if they were an omen.

 _My little turtle duck, so sweet and so strong, Many things we will learn in our little song._ He hums as he recalls the verse; _Speak of wealth it will leave you empty, Speak of power it will sap you clean--_

The sound of the door creaking open pulls him out of his reverie, “Hey,” Katara trudges in, wearing a smile but something haggard beneath it.

“Hey.” He can’t help but smile as she climbs onto the bed and rests her head on his shoulder, “I brought something to show you.” He lifts a wooden figure for her to see.

“Is that a turtle duck?” Her eyes squinch with endearment, and she nestles closer.

“Yeah, my Mom gave it to me.” He lets her hold it.

Turning it over in her hands she instantly discovers that it rattles and she squeals in delight. He’s been wanting to show her since he told her about this mother. She listens attentively as he tells her the story.

“We both have a piece of our mother’s with us always.” She squeezes her necklace.

He smiles fondly and relieves her of the turtleduck, setting it aside. She sighs deeply, resting her head on his chest and his heart still does cartwheels every time.

The sweet enchantment of her scent still makes him shiver and he presses his face in her hair for a long beat, just drinking in her essence. Her little hand rests on his chest, and he’s not imagining that she’s holding on tighter today than she has before. _Sweet girl,_ he thinks as he supports her elbow and brushes her back. 

The sleeve of her robe slides down her forearm. Zuko loves it when that happens, because it means he can rest skin on skin. 

His fingers brush her elbow and then he pauses. A bluish-yellow patch of skin is peeping out from the fabric. Carefully, he pushes the cloth a little further, bluish blends to purple, revealing a large expanse of discolored skin.

“What happened?” he asks automatically, concern flutters in the corners of his heart.

“Nothing,” she hurries to pull her sleeve up, not meeting his eyes.

He’s frozen, fear prickles his conscience. If it was truly _nothing_ she would have made a sarcastic joke and probably told him that she named her bruise after him.

“But you’re hurt, can I just--”

“ _No!”_ she jerks her arm away when he tries again.

He silently berates himself for pushing it. He’s also suddenly aware that she’s been shaking this whole time and her breath is uneven. A very eerie and unwanted feeling is arriving in his heart and a suspicion is creeping closer, now coming into view. He hates it, and his stomach turns over.

“Can I see it please?” he asks gently but he can’t hide that his breathing has changed too.

“Please drop it, Zuko.” She snaps, tucking her face into his neck.

Her tone is final and he doesn't want to press it, for fear that she might push him away. He’s suspected that her situation was questionable, but now he thinks he knows exactly where that bruise came from.

He can’t let it go, not when she’s shaking, not when her safety is on the line. Thoughts fly by at a frightening speed. A million terrible scenarios unfold before him. What happened? Is she hurt badly? Was she threatened? Too many questions cloud his mind, questions he knows she won’t answer. He takes a deep breath and his embrace becomes more snug and tender.

He leans into her ear to whisper, “I will drop it, but can I say one thing?…” her breathing stops, she’s listening, “Sokka needs to know.”

Katara doesn’t answer, which confirms his suspicions. Her hands fist into his robe and she clings a little tighter. He presses her closer, matching her strength and the silence hovers in the air weighted with something ominous. She doesn't speak or lift her head but she lets him rub her back and press his face in her hair.

* * *

The Saturday morning Sun is piercing, and the air is crisp in Katara’s lungs. A throng of students have gathered in the entry and have begun milling about the courtyard while they wait for the chaperones to arrive.

Hogsmeade trips are a beloved pastime by all. There are shops a plenty and vendors calling their wares. Halloween is approaching so the village will be decorated with the season.

Perched on a stone wall, Katara waits for Jet, they planned to spend the day together. Weekends are the one time that students don’t have to wear school robes. It’s a welcome treat, but today the wind seeps through her leggings and her black Winter coat. Her Chelsea boots are warm enough but she could really use a Winter hat.

Her eyes wander and she blinks a few times as Zuko comes into view, walking out from the entryway. How is it that simple flannel and a warm vest making her heart speed up? And she must be dreaming because he's talking with Sokka. _Sokka._ Blue-jean-ponytail-granola-ass Sokka.

Straining to hear is fruitless, she’s too far away. What could they be talking about? They’ve never talked, per se, and they aren’t _friends,_ but then again they aren’t enemies either, or rivals like she is with Zuko.

“I think she’s watching; laugh like I said something funny.” Zuko keeps his face emotionless.

Sokka bursts out laughing and doubles over, slapping his knee. “Oh my God! Zuko, you slay me!” he wheezes, then while he’s still laughing he straightens his wool coat and the two men clasp arms at the elbow, Sokka’s face becomes serious, “Thank you,” he says under his breath before turning away.

“Hey,” Zuko materializes next to Katara, “You wanna meet up at the village?” he asks as he hands her a hoodie and she passes one that she has previously worn back to him.

“Yeah, Jet’s gotta be somewhere at four so any time after that works.” She accepts the hoodie gratefully and pulls off her coat to pull it over her head; the extra warmth will help.

They knew that they would be apart for the most of the day, and that they would need something to keep the other’s scent close until they could meet up.

“Gonna do something fun today?” his voice is muffled momentarily through the hoodie he’s sliding over his head.

“I think we’re going for a boat ride on the lake. You?”

“I’m buddies with Suki today,” he buttons up his vest over the hoodie.

A flare of jealousy coils up her stomach, she should have thought to sign up for the buddy program. If students desire to integrate and socialize, they can sign up to spend the day with a random student from a different house, it’s supposed to promote fellowship.

“She warned me that I’d be the caddy today,” Zuko offers an eye roll and Katara laughs, “gonna go shopping I guess…You getting anything today?”

She snorts at the mental image of Zuko laden with bags; mule-Zuko would be hilarious to see. Then her smile is wistful--she’s definitely not jealous that Suki was paired with Zuko. 

“I might look at a Winter hat, but I need to check with sokka if we can afford it first.” She has to raise her voice because a busy group of chattering students is pressing past them. Suki is among them and halts next to Zuko. Aang and Toph wave as they pass while Professor Boomi is yelling roll call for his group.

Katara wonders at Zuko’s expression, it’s thoughtful and curious like he’s about to ask something.

“Ready?” Suki asks.

“Yeah,” he answers but his eyes don’t leave Katara, “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” her stomach sinks as she watches them go.

* * *

Her mouth is practically watering, the hat looks so warm and soft. She could definitely wear it better than the mannequin, Katara thinks. Red and black designs with a faux fur inside, it looks warm enough to hold off any blizzard. She loves the Winter and with a hat like that, she could be its Queen. 

It’s around four-thirty and it’s the umpteenth time she’s walked past this shop window today; every time she stops and stares. Practically everyone walked by and saw her staring at it, all dewy eyed. Many of her friends caught her ogling and whistled. The professors that knew her well nodded in agreement that she would look well in it.

When she passed the window with Jet earlier, he just laughed and tugged her hand to keep walking.

Her day with Jet was...well it was, and now it’s done. She can’t help but feel relief, she’s been on eggshells around him lately, everything sets him off. Their boat ride was atrocious, he took no interest in the lovely scenery and offered no engaging conversation.

She sighs at the lovely hat one more time and is about to turn away when a familiar reflection appears behind her.

“Is that the hat you want?” Zuko quirks an eyebrow and his eyes are bright.

She spins, blushing slightly, seeing that he is alone, and she forgets to answer his question, “Where’s Suki?” 

“Come with me.” He smirks and there is legitimate glee behind his eyes.

Katara follows him and he turns around to walk backwards for a few paces. “You like that hat, I take it?” he points to clarify.

“Yes.” That's a weird question, because _obviously_ she does and why would he care? “Where are we going?” she rolls her eyes.

The periwinkle sky is blending to fire and purple as the stars begin to appear. Warm yellow light spills on the main road from the glowing interiors of buildings. Zuko leads her to _The Three Broomsticks,_ but not to the main door, he walks around the side to a window.

“There, look!” His voice drops to a whisper, and unnecessarily so.

But when Katara peers through the glass she sees the reason; Suki and Sokka are in a corner booth, his arm is around her and she’s pink and giggling. The pair appear to be having the time of their lives. 

“How did you…” She’s at a loss for words and she can’t help but smile at the happy sight.

“Suki wouldn’t shut up about how she was hurt that he didn’t include her in the birthing that night, so I lied to them both to get them in the restaurant, and then told them that if they talked it out I would pay for their food, and it worked.” He shrugs, but he’s clearly proud of his efforts, based on the sly grin that plays on his lips.

Katara laughs brightly, her breath turning to fog in the chill night air. Zuko smiles and shuffles his feet.

“Plus I was tired of shopping and I wanted to come see you…” His words hang in the air and he meets her eyes. 

Her stomach tugs in a weird way; she bites her lip and ducks her head. He wanted to _see_ her, not just to _smell her_ , he clearly said the word _see._ Unsure of how to respond, she smiles at the cobblestones and her cheeks flush.

“You can tell me about your day while you smell me, if you want?” He offers gently, holding a hand out to her.

Accepting it, he leads her into the shadow of the alley. His arms are warm and wonderful and he listens while she tells him about her boring afternoon. 

Somewhere, in the shadows across the street, a pair of eyes retreat into blackness.

“Are you hungry?” he asks after a while, pulling back to read her eyes.

“I could eat a cow,” she huffs.

“Come on, let’s crash Suki and Sokka’s date, I’m starving.”

It’s crowded inside, they get bumped and brushed. Zuko’s hand comes to guide her at her lower back and his stomach starts doing back flips when he sees her ears turn pink.

“Hey, hey! Look who it is!” Sokka hollers over the din of the room. “Our savior, and match-maker, ladies and gentlemen, Lord Zuko!”

Suki and Sokka cheer and laugh. Zuko blushes and pretends to be shy for a minute before taking a flourishing bow. “Mind if we join?”

“Not at all,” Suki waves them into the booth across from her and Sokka.

“I take it you’re finally official now?” Katara grins and rolls her eyes at the couple that is currently nuzzling each other, and nauseatingly so.

Suki is practically glowing in her red sweater and she looks so content to be wrapped up in Sokka’s arms.

As happy as she is for her brother, a pang of something sharp stings Katara’s insides; Jet hasn’t been that affectionate with her in months. 

“Ahem,” Zuko coughs, breaking the nausea in the air.

“Sorry!” Suki and Sokka laugh in reply.

“Who woulda thought?” Sokka muses, “The arch nemesis of my sister helped us out!”

Suki laughs and Zuko and Katara fall silent. Zuko hasn’t referred to Katara as any kind of enemy, not in a long while.

“Well, m-maybe not _arch,”_ his laugh is breathy and he covers his neck with a hand.

“Definitely not _arch,”_ Katara gives him a smile that only he can interpret, it’s a secret smile, one that has something soft behind it.

A thought cruises into her consciousness, and curiosity wins her tongue momentarily, “Was your set up for Sokka and Suki what you two were talking about, before we left for Hogsmeade?” She asks, gesturing between Zuko and Sokka.

“Yes!” Sokka’s nod is exaggerated, then he hurriedly pulls a menu in front of him, it covers his face. “What are we eating, I’m starving! Zuko, do you wanna split a jumbo plate of short ribs?”

A menu instantly appears in front of Zuko’s face, “I like the way you think, My stomach is a bottomless pit! Let’s do it!”

The quick change of subject is jarring but Katara is pleased to see that the two men are getting along despite having hardly ever interacted.

Entrees are selected and in short order the waiter has everything scribbled. When their meals arrive, the food is piping hot and mouth watering.

It’s like Zuko has always been a member of their group. He easily slides into a conversation with Sokka about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup next summer. Between mouthfuls of half chewed rib they excitedly chatter about which teams they follow. Zuko and Sokka seem to be hitting it off, rapidly becoming friends.

Katara watches as Zuko seamlessly includes Suki in the conversation, asking her about her keen interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts and her desire to become an Auror.

Outgoing and kind, he’s good to her friends and Katara likes that. Zuko doesn’t exclude her from the dinner conversation either, he makes sure to ask about her passion for Potions and excitedly shares about all the fun things they brew together during detention with Professor Iroh. Funny how the word _fun_ and _detention_ fit together when it’s with Zuko.

He doesn’t hesitate to share his food either. Katara asks for a small bite and he gives her a whole rib, but he doesn’t stop there, even though she has a whole burger to herself, he quietly adds a rib to her plate every so often. Every time, her cheeks flash crimson and she bounces eagerly, stuffing her face with the juicy meat. Barbeque sauce smudges her face and she doesn’t notice.

He takes a napkin and holds her chin with warm fingers while he wipes up the sauce. Her skin is bright red and she isn’t imagining it when Suki grins at her momentarily.

Being around him, it’s easier than breathing and it feels refreshing; Jet doesn’t want to interact with her friends, in fact he avoids them.

Zuko has a light about him, an openness; he has a temper, sure, but he’s not closed, and he doesn’t try to make Katara be closed either. In fact, it seems, his presence has the opposite effect, a soothing one, a healing one.

When every morsel is eaten and they’ve stuffed their corners, Zuko looks right at Katara, and asks her if she wants anything else. More food? Dessert? Tea? 

His eyes are so full of something, and it makes her feel safe and good, so she admits that she would love to have dessert. He insists that everyone order whatever they want, and proceeds to remind them all that he is picking up the bill, as he promised.

Turns out, everyone wants a Lava Cake. Zuko and Katara split one while Suki and Sokka split the other.

The size of these cakes is that of a small cauldron--huge--and the chocolate is to _die_ for. Katara doesn’t realize that she’s moaning around the spoon with every mouthful.

It’s endearing seeing Katara so happy with a mouth full of chocolate, and it makes Zuko’s chest stick out with pride that she let him buy food for her. He scarcely let’s himself hope that she sees what he is really trying to say.

He’s cataloging every sound, every smile, every blush of her cheeks. The evening is winding down far to soon, when they all sit rubbing their stomachs, giddy from laughing at Sokka’s stupid jokes.

“To Zuko!” Sokka burps and raises his mug of tea.

“Here here!” All respond.

A blush claims Zuko’s cheeks momentarily and his chin dips down.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” Sokka leans into the table, wincing slightly at his full stomach as his elbows come to rest on the wooden surface. “What was up with Aang on the night of the bison birth? His eyes were all--” he gestures with wobbly fingers. “Anyone else a little curious?” 

“I am!” Zuko had been staring at Katara but now his attention shifts as the memory of that night floods his mind.

Katara and Suki shrug, but everyone seems intrigued due to the fact that they all lean in to listen.

“It sounded like he was speaking--I don’t know--weird ancient words!” Sokka continues.

“Like a prophecy?” Katara asks.

Zuko catches her eye and he knows that she’s remembering the same thing she is--the night that they overheard Iroh and the Headmaster talking.

“Yeah! It sounded just like one!” Sokka scratches his head.

He recites the first few words and stumbles trying to recall them. Everyone pitches in, interrupting one another with scraps of verbiage. Suki grabs a napkin and eventually they have the whole thing written out.

“What did he mean by the _firelord?”_ Suki asks, tapping the napkin.

A wave of nausea seizes Zuko because he’s pretty sure he knows exactly who is being referred to. “I think it’s my Dad.”

All eyes are on him and he swallows before continuing, “My Dad was referred to as the _Firelord,_ by the Daily Prophet, when he led the Aurors to defeat the Cult of Vaatu in Ba Sing Se, back before he became Minister for Magic.”

“Why would anyone want to be the ‘ _downfall’_ of a hero?” Suki asks.

“And who or what is the _duobus capitibus draconis?”_ Katara adds.

It’s quiet as the group stews for a moment.

“If only we had a way to find out more,” Zuko slumps against the padded back of the booth;

A dead end, and it feels heavy. Zuko is about to call it a night when Sokka’s eyes bulge.

“We do have a way!” He claps hands together, startling the group, “The library!”

* * *

The Moon is full and Jet’s breath is a blur in front of him, as he pulls his coat tighter around his form. He turns into a dark alley, footsteps echoing eerily off the walls of adjacent buildings.

A dark figure emerges from behind a dumpster and he freezes as it approaches.

“Azula?” His voice quivers.

The looming form lowers its hood, her face is shrouded in shadow but a pair of red lips appear phosphorescent in the silvery light.

“Ugh, you couldn’t have picked a better meeting spot?” Her grimace is embellished.

“Uh--I--wha-I--I--”

“Don’t just stand there! Every second I spend in this toilet-shaped-town I can feel my dignity slipping away! What do you want?”

“Y--your brother seems to have taken an interest in my girlfriend, and I don’t like it.”

A maniacal grin slowly spreads on those cherry red lips, “Leave it to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want a Lava Cake now!
> 
> I'll bet you ten dollars that YWO gets her that hat! *wink*
> 
> Anytime anyone says anything about a "library" I think to myself "I'D LIKE TO SPEND MY VACATION AT THE LIBRARY!" LOL
> 
> Hmmmm I wonder what Zuko and Sokka were talking about?????
> 
> If it was confusing when the wording of the prophecy was being discussed, you can see the full text of the prophecy near the end of chapter seven, if you need a refresher.


	10. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's mid-November at the Castle. Excitement is building for an upcoming duel.
> 
> the library brings hope and new questions.
> 
> Jet has opinions about the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo!
> 
> We're back!
> 
> Just wanted to start off by saying that this chapter got really loooooong so I cut it two. I will post the second half next week!
> 
> Also, I feel the need to reiterate that in real life, I don't hate Jet. I say this because there is a scene at the end of this chapter that portrays him in a not-so-good light.
> 
> Also I want to share that this chapter ends at a rocky spot, but I promise this story is Zutara Endgame! <3
> 
> Warnings:  
> -lots of cuteness  
> -angst  
> -There is briefly described physical abuse. If you need to skip it starts with “Jet, it’s late--” and ends at the end of the chapter.
> 
> If you are uncomfortable reading this, please feel free to message me on Tumblr and I will tell you the plot points of this chapter! I always want everyone to feel safe and free to do what they need to do, even if it means to skip reading sections or to stop reading this story all together.

“Maybe they don’t want to be found out!” Toph smacks a mouthful of tangy, cheesy lasagna.

The Great Hall smells divine, and the energy at the evening meal is high. It’s the start of a new week, one which includes a long awaited duel at the end of it. The second bracket of competition is underway and Katara and Zuko have risen to the top of the chart. Again.

“Maybe you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Katara preens. 

“ _Hey!”_

Suki and Katara share a cackle as Toph glares from across the table. Despite the sarcastic jab, Katara can’t deny that her desire to know the identity of YWO has ballooned since she received the exact hat she had been drooling over at Hogsmeade.

Happy though she is, and grateful too, there is one thing that is staring her in the face; YWO i _s at Hogwarts_ , there is no mistake about that. The question is, who could it be? 

* * *

“Maybe they don’t want to be found out.” Zuko wags a finger at her from across the window seat as they lounge.

The afternoon Sun makes his amber eyes glow and Katara catches herself staring. It’s cozy in the hideout, while the crisp mid-November air whistles outside. Although the need for scenting has decreased almost entirely, the pair have continued to meet up; neither one showing any desire for stopping.

“But they’ve helped me so much, all I want to do is thank them!” Katara throws her hands in the air.

That earns her a fond shake of the head from Zuko and a hardy eye roll.

“Hmph!” her indignation swells and she crosses her arms.

Her wheels are turning, and inwardly, she’s donning a detective hat. Her face scrunches in concentration giving away her train of thought. “I bet I can narrow down candidates!” Her eyes dart around, unfocusing, as her brain works to recall faces. “Who was there when I was talking about that hat?” 

Zuko eyes her, then purses his lips, “You’re thinking too much.”

She ignores him and begins a sermon of thought out loud, “Toph was there, Aang saw me looking at it too--Oo what if it’s someone I haven’t met yet? Do you think I could have a secret admirer?”

“Alright that’s it!” He’s annoyed but there is humor in his tone too, “Come here you!”

Hauling himself up to his knees, he pulls Katara into his arms and presses her down into the bed. She squeals in defiance but secretly loves it, especially when he plants a big wet raspberry on her neck. The tickling sensation ripples down her torso drawing a scream of mirth from her throat. Her attempted escape is met by a warm grip on each wrist above her head and pleased growl.

Air rushes into her lungs, as she tries to catch her breath, “D--do you think--” She rasps, “--is it a he? Do you think he’s handsome?” 

Is that a pout? 

“I think,” He says from his perch on top of her, “that he or she doesn’t want to be discovered, and you ought to be punished for going against their wishes.” He finishes primely and then lowers his full weight on her to blow another raspberry into her neck and tickle her mercilessly.

* * *

“I did it! I actually did it!” 

He can’t describe the feeling, but it fills his chest with something bright and bursting. Zuko managed to wandlessly lift the the rock in front of him, for the first time. He’s had many sessions with Aang to no avail but today he triumphed.

Katara throws her arms around him and they sway; Zuko silently wonders if it’s these arms that somehow helped to unblock his Qi. 

Aang is thrilled and applauds modestly.

“You did it. I’m so proud.” Katara’s voice is urgent and soft in his ear. 

These words mean more to him than he could ever possibly explain to her. They fill him with a warm wind of something solid and strong; grounding him to the earth, to himself, to her, to every good thing. The only other person who’s ever given any shred of approval in his life is his Uncle.

Zuko holds on tight, not ready to let her go. She’s half in his lap as he sits crossed legged on the floor cushions of Aang’s lair.

It’s a long wonderful moment with her warmth all around him; only broken by a distinct cough from Aang, clearly trying to get their attention.

“Ahem.” 

Katara releases Zuko, but plops next to him with their sides pressed together. “That was amazing! Well done!”

“I have an idea!” he turns to her, “Wanna try it together?” 

He’s not sure where the idea came from, but it just feels right at the moment. She nods vigorously and he takes her hand.

Their eyes close and just as before, he lets his mind wash clean of all thoughts. This time, the warmth of her hand swells up his arm, and a silvery feeling, a good feeling, surrounds his heart. He can feel every beat; he pulls his focus to the steady rhythm, and with each passing moment power washes up inside him, higher and higher. He takes a breath, it grows higher still, a feeling akin to an orchestra striking the first note of a symphony, in perfect harmony, hums inside of him.

“Uh...guys?”

Neither one of them hear Aang’s voice, nor are they aware that not only are both of their little rocks floating and swirling together, the chairs and tables in the room have begun to lift as if gravity is slowly peeling away.

“Guys?”

Outside the window, unmistakably, great swells from the lake reach up like peaks of whipped cream. Aang’s mouth falls open. High up in his tower, Headmaster Pakku, visible from the window, is floating in his desk chair.

“Guys….Guys... _Guys!”_

Zuko’s eyes peel open and blow wide at the sight; everything is suspended, rotating slightly, including Aang, almost frozen in time, all bending to the power of his will, and Katara’s.

He gasps and they turn towards each other in awe. Their focus breaks and gravity rights itself once again. They gasp and laugh, hugging each other, overcome with pride and excitement, words tumble out and they talk over each other.

“Did you see--”

“That was incredi--”

“We did that, Katara, _we did--_

“I’m so proud of us, how did we do that?”

How indeed. Aang staggers to his feet, having tumbled to the floor. He brushes his robes and furrows his brow in thought.

* * *

There are few places in the school that can bring more joy than the library, Katara thinks. Scratch that, the kitchens, the potions classroom, and the Room of Requirement have been inching up the list. She smiles to herself as she takes her seat at a table between the stacks. Katara and Zuko, along with Sokka and Suki have begun studying together when time permits.

Aang and Toph join sometimes too.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Zuko plops next to her, drops his bag and extends his wrist for her.

The gesture is a habit, the need for scenting is just a trace of his former ferocity but Katara still enjoys the touch.

“Hmm.” She inhales deeply at his wrist, though his scent is dulled to her now, it’s still a lovely smell. “Trying to butter me up for our Duel on Saturday?”

“Maybe.” He smirks, and her heart skids when he sneaks a brush of her cheek with his hand. She offers her wrist in return and she silently thanks the Gods that no one is around to see this; his nose running along her skin, while she hides her shivers. 

“I intend to win.” He says into her skin.

Katara feigns a wicked laugh, “Says the _noob_ who can barely do wand-less magic.”

“Noob? _Noob?”_ He releases her hand, still smirking, “You tryna intimidate me? Watergirl?”

“Always. It’s part of my tactic.” She says cooly, giving him a pointed stare while she flips her potions book open.

“I’ll give you a _tactic_.” Then without warning his arms come around her middle and strong fingers tickle her side.

She stifles a shriek as he pulls her into his lap.

“Ten galleons if I win? What d’you say?” he growls in her ear.

Katara can’t answer because she’s doubled over laughing.

“I’m sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you watergirl.” 

“Le-lemme go!” she can barely breath but she’s only half fighting him because she likes the way he feels wrapped around her.

“You’re gonna have to speak up.”

“F--fine! Ten g--galleons to the winner.” She breathes and he lets up at last, but he doesn’t move to shift her off of him while she catches her breath.

His arms wrap neatly around her middle, and his warmth is pouring into her for one glorious moment as she leans back into his chest. 

Approaching voices signal the arrival of Sokka and Suki and the pair struggle to resume normal seating positions just in time.

The search for information about the _Duobus Capitibus Draconis_ has become the norm for their library visits in the weeks after their Hogsmeade dinner.

Studying and homework are completed quickly and then the real work begins. Piles of tomes litter the table while they swim through the pages. They’ve worked through the reference section, and tonight they tackle fiction and non-fiction.

After two fruitless hours Zuko rubs his eyes, “I’m gonna go see if Mai can help me find any textbooks about Dragons.”

“That’s a good idea.” Sokka nods and flips a page of _Dragon Breeds and Mating Practices._

Katara keeps Zuko in her periphery as he walks to the front desk. Mai is the work-study librarian. Her love of literature earned her the position in her third year. She is in her sixth year too and a Slytheryn, like Zuko. Despite her stern exterior and her monotone voice, she is a genius when it comes to navigating the stacks.

Zuko must have said something funny because Mai laughs softly and blushes while adjusting one of the buns in her black hair. Something in Katara flares at the sight. She’s aware that Mai dated Zuko in their fourth year for a few months; but it appears there are no hard feelings anymore.

Katara watches as Zuko follows her into the stacks and after ten agonizing minutes they return laden with books.

“You are putting all these away when you’re done.” Mai levels the group with one look, “I’m not staying late _again,_ do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am!” Zuko nods, taking his seat.

“Good.” Mai has a pleased frown, if that’s possible. She nods once and briskly turns on her heel.

“Hey one more thing!” Zuko hesitates, “Are there any books about Dragons in the restricted section?”

She spins, “With a teacher’s note, yes, and...usually only seventh years are allowed.”

Sokka’s ears perk up at the sound; he looks up, “Hey I could get us in!’

The attention of the group is lazer sharp as the focus shifts to Sokka.

“Piandao wants all the dragon-trainer interns to know as much as possible before we do our practicum!”

Katara’s heart lifts, this could be it! They could have answers at last! The feeling sinks as soon as it rises, when Zuko and Mai exchange a smile before she turns away.

“That’s a great idea Sokka!” Suki squeezes his arm.

“I can probably get the note on Monday after class!” Sokka exclaims.

Suki and Zuko praise him for being their savior in this endeavor, but Katara is preoccupied by unwelcome thoughts.

* * *

After a quick refreshment from the kitchens, the group disperses; Zuko to Slytherin house and the other three to Gryffindor tower.

Katara decides to peel ahead, Suki and Sokka are being far too mushy for her taste at the moment.

The corridors are quiet save for the nearly inaudible flickering of the torches. She walks until the voices behind her fade into oblivion. She can breathe at last. Her mind mulls over Zuko’s interaction with Mai, all of it made her uneasy and she can still feel the knot in her stomach.

Rounding a corner, a rough hand grabs her arm and pulls her into a shadowy alcove. She yelps at the violent movement.

“Studying late I see.” Jet’s voice sneers.

“It’s you,” she breathes a sigh of relief, “you scared me.”

He doesn’t let go of her arm and his grip isn’t gentle. An instant swell of anxiety spikes in her chest, something in his eyes is threatening.

“I should go to bed, it’ll be curfew soon.” She manages to croak and moves to squeeze around him.

Her escape attempt is blocked by his broad shoulders. “You can’t give your boyfriend a minute of your time?” he spits the words venomously.

“Jet, it’s late--”

“But not too late to spend time with Zuko in the library.” His expression shifts to a bitter mask of sarcasm.

“What is your problem? He studies with me and Suki, we’re in the same class--”

He covers her mouth roughly with his hand, pinning her to the wall, as Sokka and Suki’s voices trail down the hallway and pass by.

She recalls how Zuko had done the same, but gently, on the night they overheard The Headmaster and Iroh talking.

As her brother passes, Katara’s heart reaches for him, almost crying out for help with silent screams.

Jet releases her but keeps her pinned. “You listen to me, you’re a mudblood and you don’t know better. Zuko might be playing nice, but I know his type; when it really counts, he’ll turn on you.”

She feels sick, her head is spinning. Confusion coils around her heart and she tries to shove him off but he’s too strong.

“I don’t want you hanging out with him.” He adds.

“You’re not the boss of me.” Katara pushes up her chin in defiance.

“Fine.” He jostles her shoulders so her head glances off the wall.

She cries out in agony and he smothers her mouth again with his hand. It’s a struggle to pull air in through her nose as her lungs stagger at the pain.

“Mark my words.” He says through his teeth and then let’s go.

She stumbles and coughs as he steps out of the shadows and disappears down the hall, leaving her alone in the dark.

Silent tears steal away down her skin; she covers her face and slides down the wall. The darkness swallows her as she sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue tense music!
> 
> Up next, THE DUEL!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
